Little Infinities
by StonedMonk
Summary: "You're not a hero." Judy spat at the fox. Nick's face contorted from his confusion, his fragile ego now on the verge of shattering."Despite all the good you think you're doing, you're still a thief. You're not a hero. You've never been a hero." She answered with a preponderance. "You just hurt more people than you help." (Young Nick/Judy, AU)
1. The Intruder

**Music that Inspired this chapter:**

 **"Super 8" By Michael Giacchino**

 **"Old Man Have Safe" By Christophe Beck**

* * *

In a semi-ambiguous way, the fox had reached realization. That this... This is what he was meant to do.

That maybe (just maybe) it would relieve his sins.

The figure was comfortably adorned in black, laying upon a grassy hill with a lollipop loosely hanging out of his young canine mouth and a dishonest smile plastered firmly on his face. A large ring of black covered his right eye, a result from a recent failed heist.

The corner of his mouth lifted with a hint of reminiscence.

A couple hundred yards next to the vulpine, stood the front of an unassuming cream colored house in the middle of the godforsaken farmland, tinted blue from the beauty of the moon and the twinkling of the stars.

Now, the fox would never admit it. To anyone. But ever since he was a pup he would adore the stars. He admired their brightness from afar, seeing them as tiny specks of hope on a dark gloomy background. Did they give him hope? No, he had been hurt far too much too indulge in that belief. Still, their mysterious dancing always attracted him in a strange way.

Even in his new room, he would sit at his dirty, broken window and simply stare at the ignitions. He would lose hours upon hours of sleep, getting him in trouble from his orphanage countless times. But to him, the heavy bags under his eyes were of well worth when the morning came.

The 12 year old fox was marveled, with a now bittersweet dimple forming at the corner of his lip. With a star flaring in almost every direction, the canine continually shifted his gaze. His eyes flickered back and forth, constantly wanting to burn the full illustrious night view into his corneas.

The stars danced around him in joy throughout the late hours causing him to imagine his mother, no longer bound to her deprived life, dancing with the others around her. Spreading her infectious smile. He could hear the chorus of his mother's old warped records playing in the back of his mind, drowning him in a nostalgic happiness that seemed to be harder to access every other day.

He wanted her back. More than anything.

He pulled his crimson lollipop out of his mouth and began wrapping it back in the wrapper it originated from. The paper _crinkled_ and _crackled_ it as he tucked it away in his backpack. Quietly turning over the bag into a makeshift pillow, he innocently shut his eyes and snuggled against it. His cheek fur flexed and prickled as he laid his heavy head onto the fabric.

And as the final star twinkled and danced before settling down with its peers, he could swear she was staring back at him.

* * *

The figure was awake once again hours later, this time blissfully eyeing the house in front of him. _So this is the place huh? Small, affordable I bet_.

His unkempt red tail thumped against the hard ground with excitement, erupting airborne dust and soil from the ground at an exponential rate. _I think I like it._ He felt electrified from the mere thought of another heist. It invigorated him, filled him with a purpose. He pictured it with a cunning beam as he sucked on his translucent crimson lollipop once again. He had helped so animals from poverty and sadness, all at the expense of rich folks who wouldn't spend a penny to even glance at him.

To those who knew him, Nicholas Piberius Wilde was a hero.

His chuckled as his eyes drooped; the dawning threat of drowsiness was quickly catching up to him again. _Already slept. Can't fall asleep on the job again._ He slowly reached his small red paw up, and began to pant. He hyped himself up, trying not to delay the inevitable. His paw flew through the air and connected itself to his face with a loud _TWAP!_ Realizing that he had hit his bruised black eye, he felt salty tears form in the corners of his sockets.

 _If you can even call this a job!_ He thought angrily as he leaned on his elbows, making his body into a perfect obtuse. He clutched his aching face, trying to seize the hot raging pain from spreading through his nerves like a monstrous wildfire.

He rapidly reached for his ancient and damaged flip phone, that rested inside his sweatpants pocket. He pulled it out and gazed at it, admiring it's dents and cracks residing in the plastic as it reflected the beauty of the night. He adored the piece of junk, for one reason only.

It was his.

He worked hard and spent the time and the money to provide himself this pleasure. His perspective could finally shift from being owned, to owning something. He stared at the LCD screen studying the info displayed on the front.

 **Saturday, November 3rd**

 **2:42 AM 52° F**

 **New message from "Fin".**

His caller ID lit up onto the anterior of the closed phone to reveal a picture of his friend/partner in crime(s). The wily orange fox had just texted him 13 minutes prior... He flipped the phone open with an unhealthy _snap_ before scanning the previous messages.

 **Finnick:** Which area are you hitting tonight? **(Sent November 2nd at 10:21 PM)**

 **Nick:** The Burrows. Took the train. Figured I'd oughta check out the farms. You gonna keep texting or help me? **(Sent November 2nd at 10:26 PM)**

 **Finnick:** Who else would be crazy enough to be your partner? **(Sent November 2nd at 10:33 PM)**

 **Nick:** You set up partner? **(Sent at 2:33 AM)**

 **Finnick:** Had a hard time sneaking out. The old lady's starting to catch onto us Wilde. Don't know how long we can keep this up. I'm at the library. Call me when you're ready. **(Sent Just Now)**

Nick deviously smiled and quickly hit the illuminating green button on his phone.

* * *

"You ready?" The prepubescent yet still semi-gruff voice asked him.

"Oh, not even a 'Good Morning Wilde'?" The red fox asked with a long yawn before commenting, his lollipop whirling around in his mouth. "Since when has Zootopia's orphans become such a _rambunctious_ and _unmannerly_ group?" Nick dramatically stated as he stretched.

"Can it Nick! We only have 16 minutes left on the phone plan, make this one quick." The slender red fox ignored him, comically mouthing 'blah blah blah' as he stood up and put his cheap, uncomfortable Bluetooth earpiece into his ear.

"No problem. Should only take me 5, if there's no hiccups." Nick replied as he pulled up his black backpack he was laying on and rummaged through his supplies before he finally pulled out some fox-sized binoculars.

"There will be. Farmers are notorious for their adamant security." Finnick corrected. Nick snickered. "They're also not very lenient towards trespassers."

"It's gonna be a cakewalk. How many heists have we done this year, Fin? Hell, we already did four last month. We've been getting cleaner and no one's gonna find _or_ suspect us." Nick egotistically answered before Finnick's sigh. "Besides, who's gonna suspect two kids?"

"Tell that to the pig who gave you _that_ shiner." Nick grimaced. "Of course, there was Timothy from when you beat him at chess, Wade from the counterfeiting, Peter... well I don't remember why Peter hit you-"

"Okay I get it. I get hit _a lot_." Nick huffed in annoyance as he walked through the giant blades of seemingly dead grass, each one ruffling and scratching his clothes with the sharpness of a butter knife.

His hoodie and sweatpants didn't make a single audible sound through the vegetation. It was _obviously_ a tactical reason why he wore them. They were smooth and didn't make much noise; the color made it hard for anyone to see his red fur, making him virtually unrecognizable. They were strategic, as well as comfortable. Plus, It made sneaking into houses and thieving from people a whole lot easier.

Laziness _totally_ had nothing to do with it.

"You're cocky attitude is going to get us in trouble." Finnick snapped, dragging Nick back into reality as he remembered the situation at hand. He crouched on one knee, observing the house before replying.

"No, It's not. This is Bunny Burrow Fin. They're just a bunch of old hicks." He paused, and picked up his binoculars and shoved his eyes through the lenses, while his lollipop still delicately hung in his mouth. He quickly looked towards front of the house. A small, sun-scorched sign read, 'Protected by ATP'. _The Bunnies in Bunny Burrows actually use their home security. Who woulda thought?_ "Alright buddy, time to work for a living."

Finnick chuckled. "That's a good one."

"The security here doesn't look that advanced. Do me a favor and search up ATP." He heard the quick _pitter patter_ of the small foxes fingers on the keyboard of their local libraries old computer.

"There's a problem. All I'm getting is Adenosine Tri-"

"Phosphate?" Nick interrupted, quickly remembering his 6th grade biology textbook.

"I get it Wilde, you're smart. Top of the class. But a goddamn macro-molecule isn't gonna help us right now." Nick closed his eyes, and pushed his fingers to his temples.

"Language, Fin."

"Oh, shove-it Nick."

The red fox chuckled, before focusing once again. _ATP... Why does this seem so familiar..._ "Have you tried ATP Security?" He waited a mere second as Finnick's fingers tapped against the cold keyboard again. Suddenly a _click_.

"Got it. Advanced Threat Protection Security." Nicks lips curled into a sly grin.

"As in, 'our first heist', Advanced Threat Protection Security?" Nick asked, though fairly confident in his answer. _This technology_ is _outdated._

All Finnick could do, was chuckle in response.

 _I'll take that as a yes._

"It's a standard circuit. Door and window sensors, all controlled by a primary controller. Simple enough for ya?" Nick grunted in approval.

"Good to know…" Using his binoculars, he could notice blinking green lights inside of the house. "Well, I see those sensors you were talking about…" Scanning the house quicker than normal, he located the front door. To which he discovered- "Oh, there's the controller baby! This is _way_ too easy Finnick." He squealed in excitement

"Now, don't get cocky Wilde."

"Uh-huh. Yeah sure buddy, sure..." Nick ignored while lowering his binoculars.

"You're gonna get caught!" Finnick cautiously warned.

"That's why we have a plan for that Finnick! I'm taking all of the precautions that we've talked about." Nick mumbled as he folded his binoculars and placed them in his backpack while continuing to talk. "And we're _not_ renegotiating this again." He finished as he discreetly closed his bag with a loud z _ip!_

"So let me guess. You're plan is to just stroll right through the front door. Isn't it Wilde."

...

"Isn't it?"

...

"Well, when you say it like that, It sounds stupid."

"It _is_ stupid Wilde." Finnick huffed angrily. "You're not thinking this through enough. We need a better plan."

"Well are we going for it or not?" Nick asked frustratingly. Finnick didn't answer. "As far as I'm concerned, we're not going to last any longer without helping ourselves. Since _Lionfart_ redirected all of the orphanages public funds, we're most certainly not going to stay afloat." Nick began rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You know it, the whole city knows it. No one is going to help us, and this is the only way to keep our home. To stay together." Still no response. "And I'm with you till the end of the line Fin." He stopped, emotion draining from his pitchy voice with no taste of his usual pride. Finnick huffed, still unmoved, even though Nick explained the situation.

"Listen bud. We just need one more anonymous payment to stay up for the rest of the month." Nick waited, an alluding silence enraptured the two of them. Nick wasn't sure if Finnick would even respond. "We have history with this security system Fin. Its just muscle memory at this point."

After an endless pause Finnick responded with dread. "The mission's off when you get caught Wilde."

"I won't. This isn't my first rodeo." The red fox chuckled.

"I guess I should say _heist_." He clamped his jaw on the remnants of the lollipop, erupting a loud crunch. He grabbed the white stick in his mouth and threw it on the ground losing it in the underbrush of vegetation. Giving a precautionary push onto the Bluetooth headset, and making sure it was snug in his ear, he began to step towards the house.

"We've got 12 minutes left on the call." Finnick notified.

"Alright, radio silence Fin." Nick smoothly pulled his black hood over his ears and ruffled messy fur, leaving only his emerald eyes to shine in the darkness.

* * *

 _Alright Wilde… In and out._

He lightly stepped out of the grass, heading towards the house all the while admiring its structure once again.

 _Y'know, this house really is lovely. I wouldn't mind getting one like this in the future._

He began to jog, which gradually turned into a quiet sprint. _Well, minus all of the farmland._

 _And the bunnies._

Despite his short legs, the fox ran with an eccentric speed. He was fast. Definitely quicker than most adult foxes by default. Dare he say, faster than an average bunny? The only thing that could stop him from running was the heat from the friction of his clothes. Though, the slight disagreeable disturbance never edged his love for the feeling of the wind that brushed his fur.

Throughout his entire species, he was the bullet in a quiver of arrows.

Of course, Nick had learned a thing or two from his orphanage, considering the fact that the kids at the orphanage were composed of many misfits, from many different species. From cheetahs who taught him how to run quickly to catch up to ice cream trucks, to raccoon's who taught him how to sneak around the orphanage quietly in exchange for some late night cookies from the kitchen; Nick had become a stealthy, agile fox in the past months.

He hugged the cream colored wall as he made his way to the porch in front of the house. Using his learned skills, he made his way up the brown wooden stairs without so much as a creak _._

At the top, the windows on the sides of the door revealed the control panel inside.

 _Bingo. just need to find a way to deactivate it._

He struggled to see the dim lettering on the LCD screen. He snickered before closing his eyes shut. Opening them quickly, he peered into the house as his eyes adjusted.

 _One thing the kids at the orphanage couldn't teach me._ He thought slyly. _Night vision just happens to be my specialty..._

 _Well, If you don't consider eating a whole pizza in one sitting as a specialty that is._

His eyes quickly read the letters, now seemingly illuminated from his green tapetums. They spelled out, 'PRIMED'. He shook his head in annoyance. The slight hope that they left their security off vanished.

 _Not like an alarm system is going to stop me from raiding this house._

He smirked from his thought before turning around. But something minuscule caught his eye. He turned around once again, and squinted inside.

 _Uh-oh._ He thought as he stared at the sensor. A battery compartment was wrapped around it, in duct tape.

 _A makeshift battery compartment huh? Someone here actually knows a thing or two about circuitry. Probably the father._

He crawled down the porch and circled around the cream colored house, counting. _One sensor on front, another on back. Major doors are covered. Both are tampered with._ His head tilted to the side, his ears twitching as he heard the sounds of the night as he considered his next option.

Suddenly his luminous green eyes opened again, and the right side of his cheek rose in an arrogant grin. He walked towards the side windows of the house with glistening emerald eyes, examining the multiple panes gleaming from the moon.

 _Haven't checked the windows. Odds are one sensor is bound to be dead._

The reflection stunted his vision, and the bright moon did not aid his night vision in the slightest. Stealthily scanning the living room, the continuous glances of green light from the corners of the aperture confirmed his dreadful thought. _Bottom floor windows are activated._

He sighed internally before he sprung from his location with a stealth unlike other animals, and quickly climbed up the white wooden beams of the old creaking house. _2nd floor…_ He quietly walked across the top of the skinny shingles. They barely shifted under his slender figure. After a quick walk around, he clenched his jaw angrily. _All windows are primed._ After inspecting the house another time, he realized he was left with his last resort.

 _Gotta cut the power._ He quickly made his way to the power box on the side of the house, and quietly studied it. Straightaway, he spit on the hinges.

 _Not gonna let a squeak get me in trouble again._ Nick inaudibly removed his backpack, and pulled out some bobby pins. With a quick _click_ of the lock, the door to the power box was free. He studied the breaker switches and noticed the labeling of each one was uncharacteristically faded. _Damn. Just what I need._ He leaned forward and practically stuck his eyeball onto the masking tape, hoping that he could decipher the tiny words in the dark moonlight. After straining his eyes a bit, he finally found the "1st floor" switch.

 _FLICK!_

Nick leaned to his right and peered through a window. The sensors were still glowing green.

"What was that?" Finnick asked concernedly.

"The circuit breaker." Nick answered with a questioning frown. "I was trying to shut off the power to the first floor so I could get the sensors to shut down."

"What went wrong?" He asked.

"Didn't work." Nick answered as he _flicked_ the switch back on.

"That plan should've. ATP runs through the house's electricity. Why did they stay on?"

"It looks like there's been some self improvements." Nick answered bashfully. Finnicks line was soon filled with grumbles and clicking. "The father here must like to tinker with electronics. It looks like its hooked up on backup battery power. Probably updated from the owners of this house. They must've paid extra for their security though, it looks airtight. I don't think we've broken into a house with self upgraded security before." Nick said while peering at the power box. "But there's a first time for everything."

"Can you tell what type of batteries they were?"

"Furacell. Size D." Nick grumbled as he shut the power box closed.

"Well, with the amount of power the security system needs, you're gonna need to wait-" Finnick replied with an exhausted sigh. "12 hours till the batteries die."

"Well I don't intend to be here for 12 hours Fin." The red fox let out an angry growl. "We need another plan."

" _We?_ You're the one who comes up with plans Wilde. I'm just your researcher."

"Well then what are we gonna do?" The red fox groaned in frustration before angrily slamming his head against the power box. His eye began to flood with pain as his black eye rammed into the cold metal. "We need this hit Fin, people are depending on us."

* * *

Her long ears twitched in the night.

* * *

"We can heist tomorrow. You don't need to raid this house, and frankly you need some sleep." The fennec fox reassured. " _I_ need some sleep Nick."

...

 _Maybe that's a good idea. I don't_ need _to break into this house. I can find a smaller, and less secure one tomorrow… We'd only be a day behind._

"You calling it?" The deep voiced fox inquired. Right before Nick was about to admit defeat, the small fox joked, "The first house to stump Nick Wilde huh?"

Suddenly Nick's whole demeanor changed. Though he knew Finnick was joking, he was still offended. He felt his eyebrows narrow. He bared his white teeth.

 _Nothing stumps Nick Wilde._

"No, I have another plan."

"They never stop do they?" Finnick joked with a grin. "What's the gameplan?" The young red fox had never felt more devoted in his life.

"Time for some science shit." He said with a sly grin.

"Language, Wilde." Finnick joked.

Nick chuckled before he quickly pulled off his backpack with a _sling!_ He rummaged through it's contents, looking for one bag in particular. "Hey Fin? Remember when I found that disposable camera in the garbage bin on 6th street?"

"Yeah, you're an A1 dumpster diver Nick. Nice job. Now, how is that hunk-of-junk gonna help us?" Finnick reminded as he slouched back in the libraries uncomfortable plastic chairs.

"Well I was saving it for a moment like now." Nick said as he pulled out his headphones, his pocket knife and a disposable camera out from the bag.

"What are you gonna do? Take pictures of the house?" Finnick replied sarcastically.

"Not necessarily." Nick replied with a half open mouth before producing a mischievous grin. He grasped the headphones between his fingers. Whipping out his dark pocket knife with a _shing_ he quickly cut off the earbuds and the jack leaving only wires. He took the sharp blade to the red insulation that was his headphones and quickly unsheathed it, revealing the malleable wiring beneath. He wrapped the wire around his wrist, trying to make a coil that was as smooth as possible.

"Actually. I'm gonna create an electromagnetic pulse." Nick said in a 'matter-of-fact' voice, while pressingly getting to work on his project. Finnick became silent for a while. The sly fox could imagine his friends eyes widening in curiosity.

Nick sighed.

"In simpler terms, I'm going to shut the sensor off by using an electric magnet." Nick clarified.

"It's only a short-ranged blast, enough to disrupt the communication between one window sensor and the control panel for a second." Nick quietly explained as he took apart the camera, gutting it until only the circuit was intact. "The camera runs off of batteries. Not a whole lot of electricity for an EMP, but it should be enough for a two timed use. One blast to get in. One to get out." Nick wrapped the wires around the positive and negative connections to the circuit board, and urgently put the plastic panels back around the camera. With a _snap,_ the camera was now rigged for the foxes unholy desires.

"Y-You're a genius Wilde."

His blade-like teeth shined in the moonlight as he smiled, proud of his invention.

"So I've been told." The canine said over confidently,

"W-Well not exactly a genius." The beige fox countered, flustered that he unintentionally complimented his friend. "Wha-What I meant to say is that you think like a thief."

Nick smile widened. "You know, that's _more_ of a compliment to me, actually." Finnick chuckled over their call.

"Charging." He said as charged the camera. It produced a quiet _whirring_ as it drained power from the battery and flooded the capacitor with electricity. When the whirring stopped, he placed his hand on the shutter. "Here we go Fin." He commentated before pressing the coil against the glass of the window. He lined it up with the sensor on the bottom of the window sill. "Firing."

 _Click!_

* * *

The bunny awoke. Her magenta eyes quickly dilating to the darkness.

* * *

The LED on the sensor quickly shut off. No light was emitting from the rectangle. His mouth curved into a smile.

Nick rapidly hopped in through the window and shut it before the sensor could reconnect to the control panel. The LED lit up green again.

Finally inside of the house, Nick huffed in victory.

 _Nothing stumps Nick Wilde._

"I'm in." Nick murmured silently. He turned to look at the innards of the tall building. His night vision flawlessly kicked in, revealing several of expensive items throughout the house.

Leaving the camera set up next to the window, he snickered. "Give me 5 minutes Fin. I'll be in and out."

* * *

Emerald eyes gleamed through the darkness. Nick's bag silently _clanked_ and _banged_ with all the loot he stole as he tried to soundlessly head his way down the endless black hallway. His feet demonstrated a certain finesse and experience as he walked only on his pads, making sure that his claws didn't scratch the wood floor.

A glisten abruptly caught his eye, causing him to quickly veer his head to the right. On top of a dresser sat a beautiful, drop-dead-gorgeous violet necklace in a display case. His eyes widened.

Nick approached the case, and violently grabbed it.

 _It's probably just a show piece. Or maybe an old prom relic from some old bunny's glory days. No one will need this._

He imagined an old bunny clasping the necklace around her neck.

 _I bet they thought they were cute._ He chuckled internally and shook his head.

 _Who would ever find a bunny cute?_

He held the display case in his hands, admiring it before he started to put it in his bag while he walked towards the window.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap!_

Footsteps began to approach him from behind. Suddenly time seemed to stop. He could feel the blood rushing through his ears.

...

Someone had spotted him.

"Stop or I'll scream." He heard the small bunny demand. He froze, while imagining who was standing behind him. Immediately, he began thinking of a scheme to charm his way out of this one.

"What was that Nick? Did you get caught?" Finnick asked through Nick's headpiece.

"You've been caught breaking and entering with the intent to commit a felony. That's a federal offence, and you can be punished for up to a year." She robotically stated.

 _She's smart, but that's insignificant._ He judged.

"Okay first off, I never _broke_ anything. Second, I think we're way past the _intent_ to commit a felony." He said with presumptuous smile, his snarky personality slipping through his half lidded eyes. He couldn't take the young bunny very seriously.

"You've been caught already _fox_. Put your hands on your head and turn towards me!"

He was stopped right in front of the window he had entered from.

 _Just need to turn on the camera. Then I can get out._

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen cottontail. I'll see you la-!" His eyes darted to the window sill. Eyebrows rose from his realization.

The camera was missing. Stolen.

"Missing something?" He heard from behind him. He grimaced. _Should have taken the camera with me._ "This is quite a contraption. It would be a shame if it were to break."

 _She must be small._

"You make it yourself? Surely, you couldn't have. Only a smart person could, and considering the fact that you've broken into a house with over 250 bunnies, you can't be smart at all."

Nick huffed at her sarcasm. _Maybe aged around 7-9?_

Though, he suddenly felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having no choice but to comply, he began to shove the necklace in his backpack while simultaneously turning.

* * *

Finnick's eyes widened with worry.

Nick Wilde had been caught.

"Nick I know we talked about what to do if you got caught, but just lis-" Nick reached a hand up to the Bluetooth headset and fluently pressed the red button while also placing his hands on his head.

The call ended and Finnick was gone, left to his imagination as to what actually happened to the red fox.

The foxes phone lit up, displaying Nick's caller ID, indicating that the call had ended. Nick's contact picture was blurry, as Finnick had taken the picture from a cracked computer screen where the original had been stored. It was a picture the orphanage had taken of them on the first day they met. They both had an arm wrapped around each other's shoulder (Finnick had to stand on a box to reach his friends), both smiling awkwardly. That was their first day together. The start of their friendship.

Finnick's heart fell, knowing there would be no more, now that Nick was probably headed towards the police station in Bunny Burrows.

Nicks picture faded into black.

Finnick fiercely grabbed his phone and hit the bright green button, Nicks picture appeared again. As it began to ring, it suddenly stopped.

" _Sorry. You have used all of your minutes on your phone plan for the month. To update to a better plan please-_ " Finnick violently slammed his phone shut, ending the call and the automated voice.

He was the last person in the library now, surrounded in a world of loneliness now that his friends comforting voice was gone. He would never admit it, but he secretly cared for Nick a lot. They both only wanted the best for each other. He was upset that he let someone so close to him, to let someone throw him back into a world of abandonment _again_. He looked up to the computer monitor and saw that the machine had shut down from its non-use. His dark reflection stared back at him.

A measly tear began to furrow its way from his eye.

* * *

 _Sorry bud. I'm not getting you any more involved..._

"Wait…" She cautioned. Nick stopped, his claws now touching the maple floor with a _clack_. "That's my mom's necklace!" His body was now perpendicular to hers, as he couldn't finish his turn.

 _Mom…_ Nick's eyes drooped down from his remorse. He looked down at his bag, seeing the corner of the display box still showing, wondering what his mother would think of him now.

 _It's her moms... I should give it back..._

"Take the hood off! Right now!" The bunny commanded. He bit his tongue.

 _I can't_. He quickly countered. _It's gonna save my home._

His jaw clenched as he slowly reached his paws up and violently jerked the hood off of himself scaring the bunny in the process.

She gasped, and stepped back cautiously. His scorched ears felt the coolness of the night as his face was exposed. His ruffled fur made him look messy, uneven. His 90 degree angle highlighted his profile against the moonlight.

"You're just like Gideon." She said fearfully after a long pause.

"Who's Gideon?" Nick asked as his curiosity peaked.

She didn't respond. He finished his turn and finally saw her face to face. She was small, grey furred, and probably no taller than his hip. Her eyes were purple and shone against the moon, her tapetum luminous in the early hours of the morning.

She noticed the black orbit, surrounding his right eyeball. It startled her to see such a young creature with damage like that.

The irony was that she couldn't see the emotional damage. All the desertion from his life, seemingly hidden behind dishonest, half-lidded and glass-like eyes.

The injury seemed to illuminate his cunning green eyes, so much so that they appeared to see right through her, while at the same time they peered _into_ her.

The feeling was one she hadn't felt a lot. With people always looking over her and ignoring her every word, she quickly began to feel meek.

But the _fox_... _He_ had noticed her. Out of all animals.

"He did this to me." She said with ferocity as she turned her head to the right, revealing bandages on the left side of her face. Three red streaks seeped through the gauze. Bleeding through it.

 _Whoever Gideon was, he'd hurt her…_ Nick thought with a resentment he never knew he had.

"He's a mean fox." She said passionately, gripping the camera in her hand. "Just like you." Nick's eyes filled with hurt as he let out a silent gasp, his mouth agape.

The bunny immediately regretted saying those words to him, as she saw the hurt flicker in his eyes.

That flicker was soon replaced with a fire, surrounded in a room of endless fuel.

Nick couldn't take it anymore. All the prejudice that he and his mom had suffered through came spilling out. "That's the thing with you prey, _always_ thinking I'm the bad guy." He said ferociously, yet with a quietness. "You're probably thinking that I'm doing this for fun, right?" He questioned. Her glare never wavered. "Right?" He asked again, this time more desperately.

The bunny unknowingly nodded.

"Well let me tell you this, Fluff! Without this, 5 families won't eat this week, and 76 kids will end up homeless." Her glare lightened as she listened.

His anger began to die down. He shut his eyes, trying to calm himself. "I'm not trying to hurt you or your family," He lowered his hands from behind his head. "and I'm not doing this because I want to." He boldly informed as he began to take baby steps towards her, his arms now at his sides. He took a deep breath. Exhaling before finally responding, "I'm doing this because I'm... I'm willing to take the blame. I can't stand by and have the people I care about suffer."

She had barely known him for a minute, and yet she could feel the loneliness inside of him. It off-balanced her naturally positive demeanor, making her still. She felt uncomfortably sorry for the animal, while also feeling the need to comfort him due to the expression he created on his young red face. It looked like he was punched in the gut.

"I won't let... my _fear_ outweigh the importance of my family. " He concluded.

After all the time she spent trying to do the right thing for other animals, she never realized that she was antagonizing others. She was no better than the fox. Still, this fox was no purist.

"You're not a hero." She distinctly told him. Nick's face contorted from his confusion. "Despite all the good you think you're doing, you're still a _thief._ You're _not_ a hero. You've _never_ been a hero." She answered with a preponderance.

"You've just been hurting people."

His nostrils flared, erupting steam from the heat of his lungs into the cold air.

Up until this night, he thought he had been doing the right thing. Changing the way that people would look at foxes. Even after all the good he had done for the need of others, he was still only a pawn.

A pawn that supported the prejudice that he was lower than the lowest. _He_ was a villain. _He_ was overcome with greed. _He_ was a _stupid._

 _stereotypical._

 _fox._

His nose was inches from hers, as he had slowly gotten closer to her throughout their banter.

Flashes of Gideon ran through the bunnies mind, causing her to flinch unintentionally. She was prey after all, standing in front of her worst enemy. The animal who, if was in 1000 years in the past, would have ripped her throat apart and used her blood as a pancake batter. The one predator who she had been warned about since she could comprehend.

And yet, there was a common ground between them. Neither were the protagonist. Neither were the antagonist.

In their little infinity, they were equal.

"I'm so sorry _that_ happened to you." He responded wholeheartedly while looking at her bandage. She felt his words. They imprinted on her young mind. "But not all predators are bad." He finished solemnly, continuing their gaze. He quickly thought of his mother. "Not all _foxes_ are bad."

They both stood in silence, seemingly bathing in the others perspective. She didn't realize how close they were.

She wanted to apologize, but her lips failed her. She instead relied on trying to communicate through their never breaking eyesight, causing his insecure green eyes to widen before worryingly gluing themselves to the floor. She knew _then_ that she had lost him. Lost him to the inner workings of his own mind.

The fox paused momentarily, looking up at her once again, but this time with a devilishly charming smirk.

A w _hirring_ began to escalate.

In the heat of their argument, the sly fox had taken his camera back.

He cockily grinned, knowing he had schemed the bunny. Yet, to the young Judy Hopps, she could see past his smile that was full of charm. She saw a hint of sadness. A hint of remorse.

Unbeknownst to Judy, The fox could feel his eyes start to water with a sudden realization.

His mother wouldn't have been proud of him.

Purple met green. He saw her worrying eyes. He caught himself admiring them.

He turned sharply, his tail becoming a streak of red.

 _Click!_

And he was gone. Gone from her view, his bag with him, her mom's necklace with it. The fox who had just been standing inches away from her mere seconds ago was gone in a snap.

It was one of the first crimes she had under control and she blew it. Yet, she didn't feel angry or upset, instead she just felt lost. The cold air circulated, creating a shiver that journeyed it's way down her spine.

She would never forget those emerald eyes.

* * *

 **(Chapter Updated: 6/2018)**

 **I would like to say thank you if you made it all the way to the end. It was a little hard trying to do a heist scene that still had heart to it. I went back and tried to flesh out everything too many times to count, which was so frustrating!**

 **I approached the heist as if I were to plan one, hence all the talk about EMP's, security systems and sensors. To be honest, I'm not sure if a lot of this is technically correct, but I like the way it turned out so I just kept it the same.**

 **There will be another chapter, but I'm not sure how long the story will be. I have some ideas to make it to the 3rd chapter, but beyond that I'm not sure. I guess it will depend on how well this story is liked!**

 **Once again thank you for reading this, it truly means a lot. If you could drop a quick review telling me what I can improve on(and if you liked it) it would be very rewarding to me!**


	2. A Fair Share

**Music that inspired this chapter:**

 **"Car Radio" by Twenty One Pilots**

 **"These Times" by SafetySuit**

 **"Model Painting" by Michael Giacchino**

* * *

The Bunny Burrows were silent at 3 AM.

But on this particular morning there was a metronomic _thumping._

His large feet pounded the dirt road of the Burrows. His breathing escalating into sharp breaths and constant gasps as he sprinted. The brown dirt _crunched_ under his weight and speed. Specks of dirt flew from the ground where he stepped, leaving a large dirt haze from where he was previously.

To Nick Wilde, the silence was aggresive.

And the Bunny Burrows were the very definition of silence.

Being left to his thoughts was something he had dreaded ever since his mother left him. The days after she passed, he remembered sitting at her grave alone. No one accompanied him. No one _cared_ that the most loving fox in the world no longer existed.

He would think terrible thoughts, about how he could see her again. Quicker than waiting. Some thoughts were even too horrifying to even bring up again.

Through his restless perseverance he had made it through that rough time. The words he would think always carried a heavy weight on him, regardless of their intentions. The way he degraded himself, or pushed himself to be _more_ than he was currently, consistently led to disappointment. His thoughts could motivate. They could debase him. They had power over him, a power that he wished they didn't have.

He would think of his mom, and how much people hated her. How he had tried to stand up for her till the day she died, yet he was hated in turn. Despite his mother's constant reminders to ' _Not hate anything or anyone'_ He hated how _fresh_ the Burrows smelled. He hated how _beautiful_ the town was. He hated the people living there _hated_ his kind.

That hate seemed to have been passed down to him, like a family heirloom that you can't throw away. He would try to stand up for something larger than himself, yet people would always push him down. What had he ever done to deserve this?

Since he was young, all he wanted to do was help others.

But others didn't want to be helped. Not by a _fox_ anyways.

 _Stop thinking. Run. Get away from here._ The fox had tried to tell himself, trying desperately to focus on his current predicament. He didn't need sensitive ears to hear the police sirens firing throughout the Bunny Burrows. The people behind those sirens were undoubtedly looking for him.

Hunting him.

The predator had become the prey once more.

Tonight, the bunnies hunted the fox.

 _Fox._ He just recently understood his hatred towards the word. The connotation of the expression. The suggestive undertones. His loathing had been culminating and boiling throughout his years, right under his nose.

Pants transformed into frustrated grunts as Nicks speed increased, using his anger as an unending fuel.

 _You're thinking too deep into it. It's just a word. A noun._ He persuaded himself.

Yet to be a fox, was to be snarky, sly, cunning, morally unfit. Was that not him? Did he just describe himself?

He _hated_ that he had to question that.

 _Stop thinking stupid!_ He wanted to scream. Was his hate of the word a reflection of himself? Did he hate what he had become?

' _You're more than a word Nicholas_ ', his mother would have encouraged him. ' _Embrace it. Make it mean more_.'

"Stop thinking!" He screamed, producing a prepubescent voice crack hinting at a deep foreign primal carnage inside of him. He forcefully slid several feet into the harsh dry soil, getting rocks and loose thorns stuck in between his toes as he came to a stop. His snarl evolved into gnashing against his white teeth.

 _Stop!_ He internally yelled at himself, his body still recuperating from his outburst. _You're gonna get caught if you keep yelling._ Nick panted, overcome with a feeling of dissatisfaction. He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of thinking.

 _It was that damn bunny._ He told himself, desperately trying to believe in his own words. _She's the reason I can't think right._

 _No._ His old self argued. _You're upset that she showed you a new perspective._ _Don't be mad at her because you refuse to see what you truly are._

 _Oh yeah? Enlighten me._

 _You're a fox._

Nick clenched his jaw. The word had shown up again. And he hated it again. Yet after he had settled down and taken a deep breath, his shoulders remained slumped. In defeat? Embarrassment? Maybe it was a peak of both.

He opened his eyes to the dark night, his black eye sore from the contractions. The colors of the night had changed since he sensitized his eyes to the darkness. The surrounding crops around him were now tinted blue, and the soil seemed to have become violet from the hour.

Green eyes looked down to chocolate feet, noticing a distinct shape and texture. _Fox feet._

Unintentionally, he lifted his paws. Scanning and glaring at their vibrantly red exterior. _Fox hands._

Those paws reached to his ears, feeling their coarse and unappealing nature. He inadvertently winced. _Fox ears._

Nick's eyes widened as his forearm came into his eye-line. His jacket had slightly nestled it's way down his forearm revealing a vivacious shade of red.

The night didn't change his fur color. Just like how Nick couldn't change his species. Foxes were destined for failure. To be less than everything. He didn't matter. He was useless.

He was doomed from the start.

 _Please stop…_ Nick pleaded as he sealed his eyes shut, resorting to begging as he clenched his fists. He ignored the road before him as he began to blindly run into the vast darkness. _Stop Nick. You matter._ You _matter Nick._ He pleaded until the word 'please' became foreign to him. He ran until his feet ached from their unrelenting abuse. The need to disappear was more apparent than ever before.

Forcing his eyes open, the previously white sclera of the canines eyes were shifted to a light red. If you were to ask him why his eyes were watering, he would have told you, 'The dirt obviously', or 'My black eye is aching' and you might have believed him. After all, he had learned to hide his emotion as well as learn to manipulate others emotions throughout his time at the orphanage. But it didn't take a genius to realize why Nick's eyes were red.

As the ground _crunched_ and _slammed_ louder and louder under his paws, a small sniffle could be heard from the young fox.

He didn't know what he was anymore.

 _You're not the hero. But you're not the villain either._

 _You're a fox._ He thought with finality, the decision irreversible. With the battle in his mind over, he was left alone in the Burrows. Running.

* * *

Nick arrived at the train station not too long after, eager to leave so he could forget about all that had happened. He approached the concession stand ready to request a ticket.

 _Crap. My clothes._ He thought with a hint of sadness, realizing that no one would trust him in his current attire.

The first time he rode the train after a heist, he had been wearing his usual heist attire. A fox donning a black hoodie and sweatpants made him questionable to the other animals to say the least. Stupid decision right? The police had been on him instantly, asking him what he had been doing this late at night and asking him for his ID. He eventually got away by giving them the fake impression that he was a hobo going to visit the local homeless shelter to see if there were any spots left open for him. He had gotten away terrified and enlightened, knowing he would never make that same mistake again. From that point on, whenever Nick would go on a heist he would always carry a button up t-shirt and a hat in his bag.

Nick's eyes quickly scanned the area, looking for a bathroom to change in. When he conclusively decided that A. there was no bathroom, and B. there was no one around, he simply opted for a small hiding spot in a dark corner of the tiny station.

He quietly _peeled_ his bag from his back, divulging a rather large and dark sweat stain on his black hoodie from his never ending sprinting. He unzipped and removed his jacket, exposing his red furry back swelling and steaming in heat to the coolness of the night.

Now shirtless, the fox then opened his backpack and removed a navy blue button up shirt that had dewrinkled from his sweat. Despite it's simplicity, it was a crucial part of his getaway plan. Instead of looking like a sketchy criminal wearing all black and having a hoodie drawn over his head, Nick had learned how to fit in with the least amount of suspicion.

He grabbed his hat, and stuffed his hoodie in his backpack, closing it with a violent _zip!_ He then began to button up his shirt, the heat from the fabric was vast from being confined to his backpack, but it wasn't as intense as his jacket. When he finally smoothed out his collar, he grabbed his hat and placed over his ears, making sure it was secure on his head. He was upset that he had to wear this disguise. That he couldn't just hop on a train without being questioned about his motives. But yet, the deed had been done.

Making a last check to make sure he was presentable, Nick picked up his backpack and walked towards the light inside concession stand. A female bunny sat inside, playing a game on her phone.

"Hello, where-" She greeted with a smile, before she realized who she was talking to. Her smile dropped. "to?"

Nick internally sighed. _She's disgusted just by the sight of me…_

All hope that he was more than a fox was gone.

"One ticket to Zootopia... please."

* * *

Normally, Nick would have been listening to the music on his phone. Mumbling along to lyrics that you couldn't make out. But since he had upsettingly cut his headphones in half, he had nothing to listen to. Instead he sat on the train, alone again with his own thoughts. Though this time, his thoughts hadn't bothered him. What had been said, or thought, couldn't be changed. Nick had no retaliation.

Wide ears listened to the slight _chuh-chuh_ of the train as it trudged its path towards his home. His body organically shook side to side with the moving vehicle, with his back leaning on a not-so-clean window. On the parallel side of the train he could see the shimmering stars through the foggy window, their flickering was accentuated and highlighted from the windows murkiness.

His mom was watching him.

Nick slowly pulled out his phone, and his wallpaper flickered inside the dark train cart. The picture was of his mom and him, sitting under a large tree at the local park. _Or, used to be local._ He corrected himself. He and his mom were shockingly similar in appearance. She was slender, more unhealthily so, with passionate orange fur and very bright eyes. The kind of eyes that you could peer into for hours with no shame. She was the type of person that would let you. She could tell you a whole story through her gaze, and she did at times.

When he was younger, he had innocently asked her for toys whenever they went to their nearest, run down grocery store. She would always reply, "Maybe next time Nick" and give him a sweet smile. Nick was quick to notice the flicker of disappointment in her eyes whenever he asked her. He could take the hint, and didn't ask for anything from her at that point forward. Unlike him, Nick's mom wasn't good at hiding her emotions.

However those stories where nothing compared to whenever Nick had asked about his dad. She would simply give him 'a look' that was more than enough to explain.

His dad didn't love him.

At least that's what Nick had figured ever since he was younger, since his mother had never told him. His father must've fallen out of love with his mom early on. Abandoned them when Nick was an unborn pup. His mom had to raise Nick all by herself. Earn money, get a house, be able to barely pay for her son's necessities. It wasn't an easy life, but it's the one she decided to take. And Nick loved her _so much_ for making that decision.

 _Stop Nick. Now's not the time for reminiscing._ He thought quickly shaking the thoughts from his head as he flipped his phone open and called Finnick, only to be met with an automated voice telling him his minutes were used up. Nick _snapped_ his phone shut angrily, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk to Finnick until he arrived in Zootopia.

"What am I gonna do?" He questioned himself as he let his head fall against the glass with a _thunk!_ He closed his eyes and whimpered, louder than his smug personality would've allowed him to admit. His morality had shifted so much in the previous hours, that he didn't know right from wrong anymore.

The last time he felt this stagnant, he was with his mom.

When he felt her cold hands go limp.

* * *

Nick's claws _clacked_ on the cold Zootopia concrete. His back ached from carrying all of the contents in his bag, but he trudged on through the maze-like city until he reached his destination.

The sign atop the old brick house read, "House of Love." Nick looked at the subtitle placed directly beneath the sign and sighed an exhausted breath.

" _Zootopia's orphanage for predators."_ Nick thought lazily as he dropped his backpack from his tired shoulders. He trudged to the side of the skinny brick house, loudly dragging his bag behind him. He took 8 paces from the side of the house and removed a piece of cardboard hidden beneath layers of dirt, revealing a hole he had dug months ago when he first began his crusade. Usually he would've grinned, reminiscing on how many people he had helped. How he was making a difference.

But tonight, he simply tucked his bag inside of the hole. Expressionless.

After covering it up again, and making sure there wasn't so much as a speck of dirt that looked unnatural, Nick returned to the front of the orphanage. He quickly scaled the building while executing a series of acrobatics to quicken his pace. By kicking off of walls, climbing up window sills and flipping off of flag poles, Nick was now 3 stories above the entrance. In front of his room.

He placed his claw in between the frail locks of the window and tugged it to the side, hearing an unhealthy _snap_ as his window became unlocked. He lifted the window pane and hopped into his tiny frail bedroom. The floors were made of dark, rotting, aged wood. A culmination of young misfortuned predators who had once lived in that exact same room. _Though most likely on different circumstances…_ _I'm sure none of them had to steal to keep their rooms._

Besides the large posters of their favorite action movies lazily pinned on the wall, Nick and Finnick's room was pretty barren. Nothing occupied the space except an old bunk bed on the verge of snapping in half, and a small desk that only Finnick could fit in. All made of the same type of wood. The room had no flare, no life.

Well, except for the fennec fox snoozing on the lower half of the bunk, wrapped in a thin turquoise blanket and was quietly murmuring in his sleep. Nick approached him quietly, kneeled down, and tenderly shook his shoulder until he was awake.

"Hey bud." Nick said with a smile, happy that he was with best friend. Finnick had become something of a younger brother to Nick. No one knew him better.

Finnick's eyes opened slothfully. He appeared confused for a mere moment, before quickly being filled with excitement. "Nick!" Finnick exclaimed eagerly, as he wrapped his small arms around Nick's sweaty thin neck.

"Hey hey hey! Easy on the fur!" Nick joked as he pulled away from the warm hug.

"Shut up you stupid-." Finnick said happily as he released his friend. "What happened?"

"Same old same old." Nick answered as he began to casually strip his sweaty clothes until he was in his boxers. "Nick Wilde uses his _incredibly charming_ personality to get out of a sticky situation once again." He then began to climb the ladder leading to his bed, hearing the threatening _squeaks_ from the wood as he made his way up.

"Gonna need more than that Nick." Finnick said with a chuckle as he got comfortable in his bed again.

"You will pup. In the morning." Nick joked as he lifted his blankets, trying desperately to get under it's warmth while his whole sweaty body shivered from the open window.

"You ain't gonna stargaze?"

"Nah, I've had my fair share of stars tonight." Nick responded as he finally settled into his thin mattress. He was careful to avoid the loose spring that had popped out years ago. He'd been mindful of it ever since it had given him a handful of bruises. The room fell into silence, and Nick was left once again alone to his thoughts. But this time, he had someone to share them with.

"Hey Fin?" He meekly questioned, unsure that his voice had made any sound.

"Yeah?" He replied, confirming Nicks suspicion.

"We can't be thieves forever _right_?" Nick questioned Finnick, though sounded like he questioned himself more. "What happens when we're done with all of this?"

Finnick paused, enveloping the room in more silence. "I don't know." He answered, an unsureness clinging to his words..

Nick sighed. "Growing up in Zootopia is only going to get harder. With you and I being foxes and all."

"Yeah…" Finnick agreed, silently mulling over their future. His eyes were closing, drifting off to a dream. "But that's why we'll stick together right?" His eyes now opening wide in worry.

"Of course bud." Nick smiled, answering immediately to devoid the fennec fox of his fears. "I'm not leaving ya."

Finnick warmly smiled before snuggling his pillow. Just hearing that from Nick caused him to relax. All of his inhibitions dissipating.

Nick threw his orange slender arms behind his head, propping himself up to see outside his window. The stars twinkled at him. The orange fox huffed in new found arrogance. _The bunny was wrong._ "We're not bad guys."

Finnick ears twitched as he heard his friends statement. He paused for a moment, his dry mouth opened, and he silently spoke.

"We _mean_ well Nick. We just don't always end up _doing_ well."

Nick's eyes widened in shock. Curiosity began to flood his mind as he picked apart the small foxes statement, analyzing it. Finally, he chuckled. "Hey, I thought I was the philosophical one here!"

"You are," Finnick mumbled with a grin as he slowly began to fall asleep. "But even the strongest and smartest need help sometimes Nick."

Nick stared out the window a little longer, listening to the howling wind flying throughout the town. The wind was never questioned. It was a force of nature, making its way from area to area. Never thinking about where it will go. It just went.

How he wished he could be that free.

* * *

 **(Chapter Updated: 6/2018)**

 **20 followers! 13 favorites! 6 reviews! I'm incredibly humbled. Thank you all so much for reading this story. It really makes my entire week. I hope this story will live up to all your expectations and then some.**

 **Sorry for it being rushed at the end. This chapter was supposed to be 6k words, like the last chapter, but I ended up splitting the chapter in half for editing sake. I'm definitely going to go through the dialogue once more, and make it not so cookie cutter. I could do better, but I just really needed to get this chapter out since its been a while.**

 **Con: This chapter is shorter than what it was originally intended to be.**

 **Pro: I'm like 83% done with the next chapter! (Also, there's now probably 4+ chapters)**

 **Anyways, Thank you. Truly, it means a lot to me that people read and review this. I hope you all enjoy your wonderful days.**


	3. Auctioneer

**Music that inspired this chapter:**

 **"Relive the Story" by As It Is**

 **"Your Hand in Mine" by Explosions in the Sky**

* * *

" _In other news, a local house in the Bunny Burrows was robbed this morning at around 1:45 AM."_

"Hey Nick?" Finnick spoke, casually bumping his elbow into the older vulpines shoulder, causing him to flinch and drop his spoon into his cereal bowl. He huffed angrily and gave his friend a glare of annoyance before shifting his annoyed head back to his unhealthy breakfast.

"You made the news bud!" He exclaimed in a whisper. Nick's ears shifted and adjusted as he silently listened to the channel, while simultaneously fishing for his small spoon in the expanse of milk.

" _The burglar infiltrated a large home equipped with high leveled security system, said to be impassable. The 'Advanced Threat Protection Security' company has been notified, and is currently researching the problem."_

"Impassable, huh?" Nick scoffed and turned to look at Finnick, who spread a colossal grin across his face. Nick beamed back at him. "No one told me it was impassable."

"Oh-ho-ho!" The Fennec giggled. "Do you even understand what's going on? A security company is revising their systems _because of you_ dude!" He quietly exclaimed, caught in his own happiness. The orange fox just smiled humbly at his friend, before returning his attention to the square television.

" _A child named Judy Hopps, an eyewitness to the crime, woke up in the early morning and discovering the fox inside of her home."_

 _Judy Hopps huh?_ Nick's glazed eyes turned towards his bowl again, his face smeared with a dimple. _Nice kid._

 _"She describes the burglar as an orange fox, height approximately 3 feet 6 inches, aged 10-13, with a bruised left eye."_ A crude sketch of Nick's small face appeared on the glass screen.

Finnick nearly choked on his cereal when he saw the picture, yet after a few loud coughs he began to laugh hysterically. He banged his small fists on the frail wooden dining room table, unable to catch his breath. He even grabbed onto Nick's navy hoodie, pulling on the hood and making Nick shift uncomfortably in his chair.

Nick chuckled at the site of the drawing as well, before swallowing the few pieces of cereal in his mouth. "They just can't get my nose right can they?" He said with a smirk as he swirled his metal spoon in his bowl.

Nick had told Finnick everything that happened early that morning. From when he hung up on him, to when he schemed 'Judy Hopps', and made his escape. Needless to say, Finnick was very impressed. "You know, not many people would have gotten out of that situation Nick." He had told him. "You really are a good thief." Although that was meant to be a compliment, Nick shuddered at the memory. He didn't want to be a thief anymore. He wanted to be something good.

Just as their joy-filled laughter crescendoed into a fit of unbreakable hysteria, the front door of the small house was quickly opened followed by a loud, "Nick!" The feminine voice was loud enough to catch the duos attention. Nick snapped his head around to see his friend Honey, a middle aged honey badger that just so happened to be the owner of "House of Love", and 2 rather large bison. Honey stood in a white blouse that held a loose pair of glasses on her collar, along with an aged turquoise skirt coming down to her knees. She innocently clutched a clipboard in her claws. Nick could see his school picture on the front of it.

His file.

"I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. They're looking to adopt today."

The orange fox's eyes widened with uneasiness before he turned back to his glass bowl, a look of unhappiness concrete on his lips.

The small fennec easily noticed this, and felt a surge of compassion for his friend. He lifted his small paw and halfheartedly _slapped_ it onto Nicks right shoulder, causing him to direct his emerald eyes to his.

Finnick tenderly nodded.

 _Here we go again…_ Nick thought as he wiped the beads of milk from his lips with his jacket sleeve and slouched his way off of the bar stool and over to the bison couple. His grin was small, and his paw was held out. "Nice to meet you two."

The male bison hesitated a fraction of a second before finally shaking Nick's hand.

"Nick is one of the kindest, hardworking kids we have here." Honey said as pulled the spectacles from her shirt and placed them on the bridge of her nose. "Let's see… " She pulled up her clipboard; Her gaze was glued to the ink printed on the paper. "He has straight A's, a 4.0 grade point average-"

"I can't believe it." Nick's head swiveled to see Mr. Johnson leaning towards his wife, whispering. "She never mentioned he was a _fox_." Nick unintentionally cringed at the word, knowing that it was only meant for the wife to hear.

"And I can assure you he's very responsible. And athletic." Honey finished as she finally lowered her clipboard and removed her glasses.

"Oh, Honey?" Nick intervened. "Chris told me he wasn't feeling well this morning. I think he might have a fever, but I'm not too sure. Do you mind checking on him?" Nick asked quickly as he walked to the fridge, opened it with a _pop_ , and pulled out some orange juice.

"Umm…" She started before Nick interrupted once again.

"It'll give me some time to get to know Mr. and Mrs. Johnson!" He sung while wiggling his shoulders with his eyebrows raised, almost teasing her.

"Okay then. I'll be right back." Honey said happily as she turned around, and quietly exited the room. As soon as her claws _clacked_ on the wooden stairs, Nick's smile faded.

The orphanage kitchen was small. _Very_ small. Only about 2-3 animals could fit in it at a time, leaving Nick to wonder how anyone could ever cook inside of the area. A run down fridge, and oven sat dangerously close to one another. Hot would meet cold, and both would persistently stop each other from achieving their intentions. Yet despite how different they were from each other and how much trouble they caused, they worked. A paradoxical relationship.

 _"The Hopps family has continued to be on edge throughout the morning."_ He heard the television spit out, causing Nick to feel fraught. He never wanted the family to be as terrified as they were.

 _Judy Hopps..._ Nick repeated in his mind.

"Listen." Nick began as he turned around and grabbed a clear glass cup from the cupboards around him. Slamming the small wooden doors shut. "There's a 10 year old buffalo upstairs, 4th floor. His name is Todd, really nice kid." Nick then grabbed the plastic orange juice container, and began to pour himself a hefty amount of the substance. "His parents passed in an accident a year ago at his old apartment. Probably gang related, though I don't think his parents were involved. They were merely in the cross-hair. Anyways, he really needs some supportive parental figures in his life right now and I don't think he's getting the attention he needs at this orphanage." The orange fox quickly finished as he placed the glass to his lips.

Both the Bison had their jaws dropped. Unsure how to react to the sudden burst of information.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Johnson asked as she watched the fox with a curious glare. Nick was about halfway done with his drink before he lowered the glass to the wooden counter with a _clank!_

"Look, I know you don't want to adopt me. You said it when you came in. I'm a _fox._ " The animals eyes widened before they both looked at each other. "No one wants a fox in their home. They don't trust 'em. Simple as that." Nick finished as he grabbed his cup and gulped down the rest of his orange juice. The couple was silent, filled with embarrassment.

"Er- Look we didn't mean for it to be offensive-"

"It was." Nick intervened, comically coughing from trying to finish his juice too quickly. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve once again. "But I'm not some little kid that gets butt-hurt because no one wants me." Nick said as he walked towards the rusted sink and gently placed his glass inside. "I've come to terms with what I am." He turned and looked into the dining room, seeing Finnick who, at the moment, was playing a game on his phone. Nick smiled. "I have people here that need me-"

"Alright! Chris was lying. Wanted to stay home from school tomorrow." Honey sweetly yelled with a smile as she descended down the stairs. "Anyways Mr. and Mrs' Johnson, when would you like the paperwork?"

The silence was tense. Nick watched the animals before him squirm as their minds worked furiously to politely decline.

"Honey, I don't think it's going to work out…" Nick said softly as his eyes remained glued on the animals in front of him. "But I think-" Nick smiled smugly. "My apologies to the _delightful_ couple, I've uh seemed to have forgotten your names." Nick answered with a smile.

"Were the Johnsons." Mr. Johnson said sternly. Nick chuckled at the generic names quickly, yet long enough to let them notice.

"That's right! The Johnsons! Beautiful last names if you ask me. _T_ _otally not common at all_." Nick said quickly, as if he'd struck an epiphany. "I think they should meet Todd, seems like they'd really hit it off."

"And you genuinely think we're going to like this kid _you're_ recommending?" The male bison asked, slightly accusatory. His wife laid her hoof on his shoulder. Nick felt a flare of annoyance, but quickly brushed it off with his charm.

"Do I think that? Yes. Yes I do." Nick answered with a fake grin.

"Ms. Honey…" Mrs. Johnson said as she turned towards the honey badger. The female bison's gaze quickly shifted to Nick, seeming transmitting an apology. For a brief moment, Nick thought he saw acceptance in her eyes.

He decided that it couldn't have been real.

"May we see Todd?"

* * *

"Nick!" The tiny buffalo yelled as he trudged down the _creaky_ steps of the old house. His feet fumbled, as his small body tried to quickly match the pace of his mind. He violently turned a sharp corner, sprinting the whole way, and saw Nick standing in the kitchen.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! What's going on squirt?." Nick encouragingly smiled.

"They picked me! I'm going with them!" He exclaimed, happily jumping up and down before sprinting towards the fox and hugging his legs together. Nick was pushed back slightly from the impact, his eyes opened wide in shock before they returned to their favorable state.

"Aww, I'm proud of you buddy! See I told you, you could do it" Nick told him in a father like tone. When the vice like hold around his knees was finally loose, he kneeled down to get on the buffalo's level.

He heard the Johnsons coming down the stairs, their loud _thumps_ crescendoing over the _creaks_ of the old wood. Soon they appeared from the poorly lit staircase, Todd's small luggage was in their hands.

The moment Mr. Johnson saw Nick squatting next to Todd, he gave the fox a defensive glare. Nick had no choice but to make his next words precise.

"Now Todd, don't-" Nick stopped, contemplating his next words very carefully. He took a deep breath before finally saying, "Don't ever let people see that they get to you." He gulped. "Y'know, when you feel down, be strong. Can you do that for me?" The buffalo nodded with a smile before he hugged the fox. Frail arms wrapped around an orange neck.

They remained that way for a time, before the young animal asked.

"Nick?" He whispered, his mouth next to the foxes ear. "Will we ever see each other again?" He asked now with sorrow and worry.

Nick's heart swelled. He didn't have an answer for the buffalo. For all he knew, he could be in jail from stealing, or be hiding from the police in a cardboard box. Maybe he would be under a tombstone by the time Todd was an adult.

"I don't want to lose you…" He heard him whisper, his breath tickling the foxes ears.

"Hey, hey, buddy... I'm always going to be there for you okay? Wherever life takes you," He paused, his inflection rising." I'm going to be right there with you." Nick answered as he pulled away from the boy and grabbed his small hand. "You feel this?" He questioned as he began to squeeze their right hands together. The buffalo nodded. "Remember this. Right now, we're the same. We always will be." Nick said as he took his left paw and placed it on the boy's shoulder. "Were not so different, you and I."

The buffalo's gaze went back and forth between their intermingled hands, and Nicks green eyes. Seeing the comfort behind them. He was silent a little longer, trying to remember the unity that he felt between the two predators.

"I'm going to miss you." He finished as he leaned forward and tucked his head onto the red foxes chest, breathing in the smell of cheap fabric softener from Nicks clean clothes.

"Nick." Honey said as she walked back from the front of the house. "It's time for him to go." Nick frowned.

"I'm going to miss you too buddy." Nick said with inflection. Nick then pulled away from Todd and smiled at him. "C'mon…" He stood up, his right hand still firmly grasping the young buffalo's. "It's time to move on to bigger and better things."

The both stood up, the weight of their hands together seemed to get lighter and lighter as they approached front door. Nick could feel Todd's pulse quickening in his palm. An obvious discomfort irradiated from the small animal.

There was nothing Nick wouldn't have given to feel that queasiness of adoption just a mere 6 months ago.

The bright yellow sunlight peaked in from the small door frame, contrasting against the darkness of the orphanage. It was a literal gate to the future.

And as Todd walked with the Bison family down the front steps of the orphanage, Nick felt a pang of hurt. The feeling was gone as quick as it came though, as the fox immediately contorted his face into a sly grin. A trick that he had taught himself. _Never let them see that they get to you._

The small buffalo turned toward Nick again. And smiled with the innocence of a child.

Then it was gone. Hidden behind a thick piece of an aging wood. Gone with a _click_ of a lock.

Nick stared at the now-closed door. His feelings and happiness seemed to drift away with each passing second.

Then, he heard an angry huff behind him.

"Nick…"

"Not today Honey. Please." Nick quickly answered, knowing their routine. He turned around and passed the small honey badger, and walked towards the frail dining room table, pulling up his hoodie over his ears. Finnick was gone, most likely leaving to take a nap upstairs.

Nick began to turn up the volume of the TV, trying his hardest to drown out the words of correction he was sure he'd receive from Honey. Once seated, The fox forcefully grabbed his spoon, and began to eat his now soggy cereal. _I don't think It's even edible anymore…_ Nick grossly thought.

"I'm just trying to get you adopted Nick!" She yelled as she followed him back from the front door.

"Please. Honey." Nick begged as he pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie. The fabric began to scrunch around his face and push his ears back, muffling the honey badgers angry voice.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" She furiously asked with a frown plastered on her face. Nick's face slowly squeezed into a living embodiment of bitterness. _Relax Nick… Relax. Don't let her see that she's getting to you._ Yet Nick couldn't let his anger boil anymore, not after all that had just happened the night previously. He grunted before loudly shoving his spoon back into the bowl with a violent _CLANK!_ Quickly turning around, Nick prepared his comeback.

"Why do _you_ keep doing this to _me_ , Honey?!"

Her heated face altered. Transitioned to a curious one. The honey badger never replied. Instead, Nick spun around once more in his chair encouraging a barren silence to fill and occupy their conversation, filling every crook and cranny with an unsettling quietness. The television continued it's garble of news, once again bringing up the burglary of the early morning.

"You know why Finnick and I haven't been adopted. Yet you insist on strolling in and trying to auction us off!" Nick tempestuously yelled, his breathing now jagged. "Why do you do it huh? Why do you want me gone so bad? Literally, no one wants me & I'm starting to think that you don't want me either!" Nick howled as he got up, aggressively grabbing his bowl and spoon as he made his way to the kitchen. He concurrently continued the conversation. "Go ahead and read them all the statistics, tell them how well mannered and responsible I am. It's not going to matter." Nick finished, as he dropped his bowl and utensil in the sink with a _clash._

Honey didn't reply. She didn't even move. Quietly standing behind the chair where Nick was just sitting, she breathed roughly.

Nick tried to turn on the sink in a valiant attempt to diffuse the tension, but he wasn't successful. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmed himself before continuing.

"You know, it used to hurt." He began washing the culmination of dishes from the morning. Honey lifted her head to look at him, startling Nick as he wasn't expecting her to do so. "Couples saying that they'd never want me, I mean."

"It stung at first, Y'know? I used to hold onto some thin thread of hope that I would be a good son again." Nick looked Honey in the eyes. "But eventually I just got used to the disappointment." He began scrubbing the excess food off of the dishes with a holey dishrag. "And I know that there's someone out there - somewhere - who's had it way worse than I do. but I can't help but feel like I... I don't belong in Zootopia. That I'm never going to be enough. That people are just going to eventually push me away." He focused on the dishes, trying to become lost in the work, and before he knew it-

Frail arms wrapped around his waist in a caring hug.

"The last thing I want, is to push you away Nicholas Wilde." Honey spoke to him, as she rested her head in between his shoulder blades. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself son. You're putting the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, and you're being dragged down because of it." She said as she let her hands unwrap themselves from him. She shut the sink off, and spun him around till they were face to face. "You get so caught up in your circumstances that you forget you're just a kid! You forget that you need a family too."

Nick gulped, holding his emotions back. "This… This is my family now." He said as he dried his hands on his baggy jeans, before turning around to face the badger in front of him. "You're a part of my family, Honey."

She smiled, her dimples spreading across her cheeks. Paws tenderly made their way to his face, cupping them against his jawline. Nick leaned into the touch like a young boy, feeling their comfort. His ears tucked against his head as he closed his eyes and slowly wagged his tail. He felt her pull his hood from his head, exposing his red ears to the not-so-cool kitchen. Her thumb reached up above his cheek, and delicately orbited his black eye. His eyes opened quickly in pain before they twitched from the sudden aching, and her smile began to fade.

"You need to stop getting into fights, Nicholas. You look so pitiful with all the black eyes you get."

"Yeah, I know..." Nick chuckled. "Though, I'm merely striving for self preservation at this point, like when Ryan-"

"Now Nick, Ryan already got punished for starting that fight."

"Yeah, and I did too! You made me clean out the attic for, like a whole week!"

"That's what you get for slugging him in the face!"

"If he can't take it, then he shouldn't dish it out!" He responded with smile.

"You're missing the point Nick-"

"Yeah, but I didn't miss Ryans jaw now, didn't I?" Nick answered slyly while turning back towards the dishes.

"Nick!" Hunny chuckled. Nick smiled warmly, knowing that he had fixed his relationship with Honey. At least for today. "If you had a dollar for every hit you've taken... First, it was Jack for when you hid his lunch, then it was Bradley when you-"

 _"We're now checking in on a previous story that was aired earlier today, but the Bunny Burrows are currently on a 'fox' hunt, looking for a teenage fox-"_

Nicks ears perked up immediately to the sound, causing his heart rate to shoot through the roof. He had forgotten just how loudly he had set the volume on the TV and rapidly spun and ran into the living room to look for the remote, making Honey jump from the suddenness.

"Geez Nick! Stop doing that, you're always-"

"Yeah, sorry! It's something I'm working on, I promise!" Nick interjected while searching for the remote in the living room.

"Why are you so giddy? What are you looking for?"

"Nothing! Nothing really, I just think that the uh, TV's a little loud. Y'know?" He said with uncertainty. Something that Honey had taken notice of. He dug through the tattered pillows of the ancient couch desperate to find the remote, throwing them all over the living room.

 _"-_ _describes the burglar as an orange fox, height approximately-"_

"You left it on the counter Nick! Geez, I swear you'd lose your own head if it-" Nick quickly spun around to face Honey, the moment the sketch of his face had appeared on screen. His head comically popped up from below the couch, and he quickly rose to his feet. Eyes widened, mouth agape and eyebrows raised, Nick's frozen facial features had matched up perfectly with the photo.

 _"3 feet 6 inches, aged 10-13, with a bruised left eye."_

...

...

"Nick?" Honey asked, now eerily alerted to the current predicament. Nick gulped.

"Y-Yeah?" He responded with a cheesy grin, his arms tucked nicely behind his back.

"Did the ZNN just say that you've burglarized a home?" She questioned, the grand picture now becoming more clearer.

"Uh, you know i'm not sure... I don't really know them personally, we're more like acquaintances. First name basis purely, y'know?" He babbled, though trying to add a bit of humor to the situation to ease the consequence. He began to quickly clean up his mess, stacking all of the couch cushions back where they were previously making sure that they looked better than when he found them.

"Nick stop."

"Y'know I think that sketch looked pretty close to what I look like, but there is no way I had that nose right? Like, did a 9 year old draw that?" He moved back into the kitchen with Honey, hoping that he could continue the dishes to make it look like he was somewhat busy.

"Nick!" Now accepting defeat, Nick tried turning his charm up to 11.

"Was it the black eye? The devilishly handsome good looks? What gave me away hmm?" He sarcastically asked with a chuckle.

...

...

"It all makes sense now... The anonymous donations. Your constant disappearances. The bruises-"

"Well to be completely honest. Um, full transparency here, most of these came from the fights you know about." Honey gave him a disapproving look. "Except this one, this one I got from some pig... who wasn't too keen on me being... in his house... at 3 AM, you know what I'm getting kind of off track here."

"Do you think this is a joke Nick?!" She yelled at him with a serious demeanor. Nick stopped laughing. "Just how many houses have you robbed?"

"Hey, hey now I didn't _rob_ those houses. I never threatened or harmed anyone! That being said... there were some people that threatened and harmed me!" Nick was playing his last few bits of charm that he had left. Which was quickly diminishing in quantity. After seeing Honeys intimidating glare, he quickly gulped before continuing. "Not much, just a little over 25 I think? I personally think it's a good med-"

"Over 25! Nick! You've got to be kidding me! This entire time you've been going out breaking the law! You've been putting everyone here at risk! If the police ever found out about you, think about how that would affect me. Affect the orphanage! If the police found out that I knew you were doing this and if I didn't say anything-"

"But you won't... right, Honey?" Nick asked sullenly, his once silver tongue now becoming lead.

Honey's aggressive glare began to dissipate the more she looked at the young fox. His once proud demeanor was now being overwhelmed by his sunken shoulders and his regretful gaze.

She began to take gentle steps towards him, while her glare shifted into disappointment.

"Nick..." He looked at the floor, the back of Honey's paw now brushing against his cheek. "Sweetheart, your mother wouldn't have wanted this life for you."

He gulped, uncomfortable with the demanding conversation. "I don't enjoy breaking into these houses... I used to think I did. I got real cocky about it too. As you can tell." He pointed to his black eye. "I started doing this because one of the last things my mom ever told me was to make a difference. To break the mold. Be more than a fox. To be _more_ than what people expect." He asked her as his green eyes shifted to hers. "Isn't that what I'm doing?"

"Sometimes… " She paused, unsure of what to say. "Sometimes being more means asking for forgiveness." She told him. Nick's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "No one is perfect Nick. I want you to know that. People make mistakes. That's what we do as animals, and it's how we learn." She leaned her head closer to his, and silently whispered, "How you react to those mistakes makes you who _you_ are. It's what gives us character." She gazed into his eyes, leaving a lasting protrusion in his mind. "Don't base yourself on what others think of you. Base yourself on who you are."

Nick face filled with desperation as he divulged himself in her words; an unknowing longing began to nag at his brain. "Honey, I don't even know who I am." Nick answered her.

"I do." She smiled innocently. "And you'll find out as well... Someday."

The foxes face lit up with anxiety. "Please, Honey..." He asked. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing or the wrong thing... Just shed a little light on me please."

She patted the side of his face. After a moment, she opened her mouth. Nick's heart raced faster than it ever had before.

"You're a smart kid, Nick. I know you'll figure it out…" She answered, as she patted the side of his face once again.

Nick's face fell in disappointment, as his jaw dropped in realization.

"Did you just-"

"Whisk you? Why yes. Yes I did." She said as her smile widened.

"Whisk? What is this the 40's?" Nick chuckled as he spun around and turned on the sink again. "It's called a _hustle. Sweetheart._ "

"Oh hush! Now let me do the dishes, and go get Finnick and the kids. It's time to finish the chores you guys started." She let go of his face and tried to push him out of the way from the only spot in front of the sink. Though, Nick was far stronger than her and he wouldn't budge.

"Finnick and I finished our chores 2 hours ago." It was her turn to become slack jawed. "We have no chores left. Let me finish the dishes, you go get the kids." He turned back towards the sink, and continued to scrub the ceramic plates and cups.

"You're still grounded, you know." Honey stated as she quickly rubbed his back and turned to walk up the stairs.

"What was that? I think the sink might be broken! It's way too loud! We should get this thing looked at!" The foxed teased, a smile forming on his injured mug.

Unbeknownst to Nick, Honey was now deeply smiling. _"You're pure, Nick Wilde."_ She thought as she turned around and ascended the stairs. _"That's what you are."_

The lanky fox now stood in front of the sink, alone with his back towards the staircase. He swayed and moved to a song that wasn't playing, washing unknown grime that reeked of last night's dinner..

And for once in a long while, he was happy.

* * *

 **(Chapter Updated: 8/2017)**

 **This Authors note is a little more unique since it is updated as well, and I can leave a comment in hindsight** **.**

 **I would just like to say that I really appreciate all of the feedback and support. Truly, I do. It is one of the reasons that I keep coming back to this little story of mine. For the people who follow it and want to see it's conclusion. I can tell you know in complete honestly, that I intend to make it to that point with all of you. I had no idea that this story would mean so much to people, and therefore begin to mean so much to me as well.**

 **Though, it may take a while I am excited to get back working on this story.**


	4. Linger

**Music that inspired this chapter:**

" **Hipster Shakes" by Black Pistol Fire**

" **To the Stars" by Tyler Bates**

* * *

Darkness.

With no one there to see it. With no one there to judge it. To question it.

It was suffocating. Isolated. Hidden.

And maybe it was better off that way. Alone in the world.

At least, It was until it was altered from the outside world in that moment. Until the blinding light from the afternoon made it's way through a tiny crevice. Until the tight walls shifted. Until the dirt began to slide around anxiously to the slender red figure that made it's way into its line of vision.

Finally with a _huff_ , Nick moved the sheet of cardboard to the side, and stood it up against the house. The now dirty black backpack revealed itself, slightly hidden in the shadows from the shallow hole it resided in. It's unholy contents made him clearly grimace. He felt uneasy looking at the nylon webbed sack of sins.

Which, at the moment, was now the bane of his existence.

The hot dirt and gravel sat under his toes. Heated from the crisp Zootopian morning weather. _This isn't Sahara Square._ Nick thought with annoyance while continuing to stare at the accessory intensely, seemingly arguing with himself. Of course, there weren't many options for a _fox_ that was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Especially in Zootopia. Where everyone hated him.

 _What did I get myself into?_ He pathetically asked himself.

Should he return the items from where he got it from? Should he sell them? Set it on fire? Donate it?

 _"Sometimes being more means asking for forgiveness."_ Honey had told him _._

 _Okay,_ He thought to himself. _It's simple Wilde. No overcomplications. Just leave it on their doorstep, and get out._

Yet instead of taking action, he continued to stand there.

 _Honey says that she can pay the rest of the bills. She has that second job now. I don't need to do this…_ He finished as he stared at the bag.

 _I can give it up. Easily._

 _I don't need to do this anymore..._

He dug his toes into the scorching soil, before reaching his well toned arm behind his head and began to curiously scratch.

 _Yeah. Easy Peasy... Right?_

There was no denying it.

Only at 11 years old, Nicholas Piberius Wilde was in the biggest pickle of his lifetime.

* * *

 _SLAM!_

Nick kicked open the intricate steel gate, causing it to _screech_ in reply.

The darkness inside of the warehouse suddenly illuminated, which in turn caused the silhouette of the young fox to be highlighted against the contrast of the sunny outside. His stance was crooked. His clothes baggy. His fur extremely ruffled. His black backpack strapped firmly to his back. Many frightening heads began to turn towards him, but none intimidated the young fox.

Instead, the corner of his mouth curved into the slyest smile he could muster. Recently, this place had become like his second home. He knew this place inside and out by now.

Which was almost unheard of, since _nobody_ knew about this place.

To the outside world, it was a myth. A dangerous black market where thieves from all over Zootopia could come to profit from their heists. Though to the nightly crew, It was commonly referred to as the, " _Nocturnal Nirvana."_

 _It definitely lives up to the name as well._ Nick had thought on the first time he visited the place.

The whole room was pitch black. Only nocturnal animals could easily function in this place. Hence it's name.

He walked deeper into the dark warehouse, his natural night vision immediately kicking in. The silence from outside now became barren due to the extremely loud music blaring into his ears and into his now rattling bones.

 _You better watch your man!_ The lyrics screamed, accompanied by a blaring guitar.

At least 150 stands were up in the warehouse today, all of them filled with scum and villainous people who would give you the cheapest estimates for all of your quarry.

Luckily, Nick knew exactly where to go.

 _Before she steals him too!_ The chorus bellowed as Nick began to walk towards the farthest corner of the Nirvana. Every eye turning towards him.

Finally at the back of the warehouse, he knew the stand he needed to get to. And it seemed like its owner knew he was coming as well.

"Hey! It's the Wilde-Boy!" The weasel yelled over the music. The toothpick in his mouth whirled around in circles, as he tried to balance it in his mouth. "Nice to see ya again kid! What is that 5th time this month? You're getting good."

"It's November now Weaselton." Nick acknowledged, as he unslung his backpack and gently set in on the floor. Never breaking eye contact the whole time. "I got some goods today."

"Oh yeah? Whatcha got? Televisions? Laptops? Girly Mags?" He asked with a hysterical chuckle.

" _Duke_." Nick warned as he began to extract everything in his bag and began to place them onto the booth's table.

"It's only a joke Nicky. Ain't my fault you ain't old enough to get interested in the fee-male population yet." He said with a sneer. The weasel wasn't tall, nor was he intimidating. He merely sat around in the warehouse all day. He even offered Nick to spend a friendly night or two at his makeshift home directly behind the shack. _Unfortunately,_ Nick had to politely decline the offer.

"Last warning." Nick said cautiously as he finished emptying his backpack. He looked at the necklace once again before deciding to leave it in the bag.

 _I can return that. I hope._

"Alright Wilde. You drive a hard bargain. No more teasing." He said as he began to examine the contents. Suddenly he pointed an accusatory finger at the fox. "For today."

Nick smugly smiled. "Fine. Now how much do you say all of this is worth?" He asked as he eyed the weasel, making sure his backpack was tight in his paws and that Duke didn't steal anything.

"Depends. You still raising moolah for that orphanage of yours?" He asked as he eyed an old picture frame.

And thus, the truth was revealed. The reason Nick always came over to this booth was because Duke Weaselton was interweaved with empathy for Nick, despite how juvenile he seemed to be. Duke Weaselton grew up as an orphan as well, only he never had to steal to keep his orphanage up and running.

Mostly because he was never admitted to an orphanage.

With any other child, Duke would have easily told them to beat it. But Nick wasn't here for his own benefit. No, Nick wasn't here to save himself, but 76 kids and 5 families instead.

And the weasel admired the foxes humility.

"That's the only reason I do this Weaselton." Nick said with annoyance.

"Y'sure?" He asked as he continued his inspection. Nick's eyebrows furrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked, his curiosity peaking.

"All I'm saying is that you look like you're enjoyin' yourself out there." Nick crossed his arms, slightly offended.. "Like this morning. I saw you on the TV while walking down 27th street. A bunny house huh? Must take a lot of guts to break into your preys house. Or maybe it was just a little fun huh? Now were you intentionally trying to scare the family or were you legitimately thinking that there was some good shit in there?"

"Shut. It. Weaselton." Nick demanded. All friendliness gone from his voice. "How much is all of this?" He asked again.

"Fine Nick." He said with a grin. He held a wad of cash, and slammed it against the table. "$600." Nick's eyelids fell in disappointment.

"Now is that including your charity?" Nick questioned, though he wished he hadn't.

"Eh, truth be told Wilde. All of this is nearly trash. $400 at best. But I know people are depending on you. So I'm giving you an extra boost from the bottom of me's heart." He said with a grin.

Nick's eyes opened worryingly. _That's barely enough for the orphanage._ He looked down towards the bag. _That necklace…_

"Sometin you ain't letting me see there, Nicky?" The weasel pestered.

"It's… It's nothing." Nick said as he eyed the bag once more.

 _It can't hurt to see how much it costs right?_

"It's just a cheap necklace I found on the way out." He answered, as he reached down and pulled the jewelry box out and placed it on the table. The violet necklace seemingly gleamed in the darkness.

"Purple suits you Wilde. _Really_ matches your eyes." The Duke sniggered. "Now let me see here..." He said as he pulled out the necklace and began to examine it. Almost immediately, his eyebrows widened. He delicately set the piece of jewelry on the table, and scrambled under the table. He peaked back over with a magnifying glass in hand. "You have you's phone Nicky?" He frantically asked.

"Ye-Yeah. I do." Nick asked as he began to make sure his phone still laid in his pocket. Y _ou can never be too safe. Especially in a place with nothing but thieves._

"Shine that light down here." The Duke commanded. Nick flipped open his phone, and placed it underneath the jewel. Many people began to look in their direction, considering Nick's phone was the only thing in the entire place that was emitting light. "OKAY OFF NOW!" The weasel spat. Nick quickly _snapped_ his phone shut.

"Okay Weaselton, you have my attention. And evidently, everyone else's in this hell hole," Nick whispered as he tucked his phone into his backpack.

"Wilde!" The weasel whisper/yelled. "This necklace is worth a fortune's!" The Duke now shrill voice murmured.

Nick's eyes widened in shock, before regaining his composure. "Um... H-How much is a fortune to you?" Nick asked contently, albeit with a bit of humor.

"Like, you can buy a penthouse in front of the Sahara Square beach for your orphanage!" He said with finality. Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"C-Can you get me the money now? That would really solve my problems Duke. Please." Nick pleaded, as all of his imaginations began to slowly become a reality.

"Nick. I don't think _anyone_ in the black markets of Zootopia has that kind's of money…" The weasel admitted. "There's only one black market jeweler that could. He lives on the corner of Rome and Crate in Sahara Square. But even if he paid you's every week, he wouldn't live long enough to pay off that necklace."

Nick's eyes fell at that statement. He stared down at the necklace once again, though this time with hope. He stared at his tired reflection in the jewel.

"Thank you Duke." Nick said as he began to pack the necklace away in the box again. _But this is going to save my family._

"Nick! This jeweler isn't the nicest guy around y'know. At least tell him that I sent ya." He frantically called. But it was too late. The necklace was back in Nick's backpack. Safely stacked under his hoodie and camera from the other night. "Wait! I've got a better idea! You can give _me_ the necklace and I'll get'cha the money! Huh? Whaddaya say Pal?" Nick swiped the $600 on the side of the table and quickly turned away from the booth.

"Wait! Nick! Nicky! Don't leave! Is it cuz of the teasing? I can get you them girly mags if you want 'em!"

* * *

The previous couple of days had been hard on her and her family.

With _hard_ being an understatement.

They'd been violated. Harassed. Their sense of security had been ripped apart and thrown through a wood-chipper. No, she hadn't felt this vulnerable in years.

Bonnie sat on her frail rocking chair, Her long bunny legs lightly rocked her back and forth outside of her warm home. The moon had been her only comfort recently. It patiently stayed there and listened to her all night. When the morning came she had her family and her husband. But the moon was resilient, and returned every night to converse. And as she sat out on her porch and talked to herself, she secretly feared that the predator would show itself again.

 _Were foxes targeting rabbits now?_ _Was she safe?_ _Could she protect her family?_ _If she couldn't, would they see her the same?_

These… thoughts, continually plagued her mind all day. Never giving her a moment to rest. And the necklace... Oh, that was the cherry on top. Her most loved possession, gone in the night. Stolen, by some _fox_ trying to get a quick buck. She might have hated that fox too, if she wasn't so tired. And frustrated. And depressed.

Oh, how she hated it.

"Mommy?" She faintly heard. Her ears straightened, and she twisted her head to see her daughter on the porch, in her bright orange carrot pajamas.

"Judy honey… What's wrong?" Bonnie asked as she began to adjust herself in her wooden chair so that she could face her daughter.

"Mom… I keep thinking about that fox." The short rabbit admitted before walking towards Bonnie and quickly _plopping_ down on her lap.

"Oh… It's okay sweetie." Bonnie comforted, as she took Judy and pulled her into her chest. The silence seemed to be never ending, just like the bunnies' fear. Yet both of the animals didn't know how soon both of those would come to pass.

Judy's long ears listened to her mother's rapid heartbeat. Hers beginning to match tempo, as she soon came to pronounce her next sentence.

"Mom…" Judy started. "I actually… I think he-."

"You're never going to see him again Judy, I promise." Bonnie carelessly interjected.

The small bunny felt somewhat discouraged. Her feelings were mixed on the fox. She didn't know if she was feeling anger, pity or maybe even sympathy. She knew her mother was simply trying to reassure her and make her feel safe, but in all actuality it felt like she was trying to reassure herself. Call it her maternal instinct, but Judy did not feel comforted. She actually felt rather conflicted. She decided the best option was to start again.

"Mom, I-I think he was hurt. He was just lonely. " Judy whispered. "He was sort of like me. Only wanting to help people," she paused for a moment. "And I hated him for it…"

"Judy… Honey, He could've hurt you. He stole from us!" Bonnie claimed defensively.

"But he didn't."Judy retorted as she pulled herself away from her mother's chest. "He could have easily just killed me, and left in the night. Be he just wanted me to understand that me and him were alike. That I didn't have to hate him just because he was a fox."

"Judy, just a few days ago you were angry at that other fox, 'Gideon'! He hurt you! How could you be so focused on forgiving this one? The one that threatened our whole entire family?"

"Gideon was just a bully that happened to be a fox. That doesn't make all foxes bad." Judy countered, as she looked her mom in her eyes. "Right?" Judy asked with the innocence of a child. Bonnie looked down at her perplexed daughter.

 _Was she right? Was it possible that this fox was only doing something he thought necessary? Was he being wrongfully accused?_

With her mind firing with several thoughts, she began to wonder and debate why Judy was so different from her other siblings.

When the others decided to be carrot farmers, she decided to be a cop.

When the others wanted to play tag, she wanted to play cops and robbers.

When they were bullied, she would stand up for them.

When they were scared and terrified... She wasn't.

And in that moment of realization, Bonnie began to wish that her siblings were more like her. She began to wish _everyone_ was more like her.

Bonnie took a while longer to reply, letting Judy's judgement echo and rebound throughout her mind, like an insane game of Pong.

"N-no" Bonnie paused, trying to come up with the right words. "H-He did wrong by us…" She admitted. Judy's eyebrows peaked in curiosity. "It's just... Sometimes things can't be that simple. Maybe he was doing what he thought was right. Maybe he was nothing like what we expect him to be, but he still hurt us." She said as she looked down at her confused daughter. "No Judy, he's nothing like us. He's nothing like you. You can't have sympathy for him after what he did to us." Bonnie thought with a feeling of uncertainty.

Judy now felt even more conflicted. She had been told her entire life to treat everyone the same. Told to put herself in other people's shoes, but in the dire moments where she questioned the morality of another animal she was told to lose all empathy.

This wasn't the resolution she expected. The insight was paradoxical to her, but maybe it was something that only adults could understand.

Maybe her mother was right.

And with her thoughts finalized, Bonnie and Judy finally fell asleep for the first time in days. This time with a brief moment of unwise clarity.

* * *

"Mom.." Judy said slowly, causing Bonnie to wake up from her much needed slumber. As she opened her eyes, she saw Judy looking far out into the distance of the crops. Her ears were pointing straight up. She had heard something.

An uneasy emotion spread feverishly throughout Bonnie's entire body.

"What's wrong J-" She started before she turned to look at what Judy was looking at.

There.

There it sat.

It didn't _move_.

It didn't _threaten_.

It merely existed, like the rest of the world around it.

The cold wind began to aid in it's flexibility, causing it to flap open and closed from the slight breeze. It seemingly whispered, " _Please don't be afraid. I'm right here."_

She stood up with Judy still clutching to her chest. The chair made an audible _squeak_ as she dismounted.

"What is it mommy?" Judy asked, as she wiggled away from her mother's grip. Finally free, Judy landed on the patio with finesse.

"I-I don't know sweetie." Bonnie said, as she squinted her tired eyes to look at it. "G-Go wake your father up. Quietly." Judy quickly ran inside of the house again, leaving Bonnie out on the porch alone.

She stared at it longer, before she mustered enough courage to walk out towards the items.

 _This is how those stupid people in the movies die._ She sheepishly thought as she stepped down the porch stairs and approached it. It seemed to glare at her as she got closer. The emerging lump in her throat tightened. Her gut was seemingly shriveling with every step she took towards it.

Finally, she reached the brown paper bag. A delicate note was attached on the top of it.

" _I'm so sorry._ " It read.

Bonnie stared at each individual letter, tentatively inspecting the polite markings. She came to realize that the writing was precise. A pinnacle of legibility. Bonnie wasn't sure what was in the bag, nor who wrote the message. But there was one thing she knew for sure.

Whoever had written the note, had thought out their words carefully.

She read those three words repetitively, before she noticed a small subtitle resting on the corner of the paper.

" _I wouldn't wish this fear upon anyone_."

With deep breathes, she reached inside it gingerly, the brown bag _crinkling_ and _crackling_ in the silent night atmosphere all the while, fearing whatever she might pull out of it.

She gasped. Her paw flew straight to her mouth as she felt the hot salty tears start to form in her misty eyes.

 _You brought it back..._ She thought with a beam. _You brought it back to me._

She looked down at the thick necklace, and saw her hopeful sapphire reflection. It felt strange to her. Like she hadn't seen it in ages.

Her gaze flew to the night sky as she tried to catch her breath. She was panting, and she didn't seem like she was going to stop anytime soon. The adrenaline rush from the moment reaching its highest peak.

Bonnie looked on at the moon with tears streaming from her eyes, she saw a strange star twinkling brightly.

Dancing almost.

"Mommy?" She heard behind her.

"I-It's here Judy. Everything's going to be okay dear." She gargled out through her happy crying.

Judy eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What's here mom?" She asked before walking up to her side, and grabbing a hold on her soft hand.

 _Thank you…_ Bonnie mentally told the flickering star. She clutched the bag to her heart, her hand like a vice grip around the necklace. _Thank you so so much…_ She sniffled once more before turning back to her daughter.

But she froze. Almost immediately.

Judy's ears were as straight as a pole. Her head was snapped towards the darkness of the crops.

Though the bunnies didn't accumulate night-vision, they could easily detect it. There, far in the distant brush of the vegetation, glistened two curious emerald eyes.

* * *

 **I'm very sorry for the time it took to make this chapter. But I have some very positive things to announce.**

 **First off. A lot of the time spent off from this story was resulted in me updating almost all of the first chapter, some of the second, and some slight changes from the third.**

 **These changes were made because I wasn't as satisfied in the way the story was turning out, but now that I know I have made my corrections I feel that I can continue this story once again.**

 **Secondly, I have finally got an idea to prolong the main story. I'm aiming to get roughly 10 chapters for this story, but depending on the length of the chapters It may vary.**

 **Finally, I have decided to change the name of the story just because I felt, "You're No Hero" was pretty generic. As I was rewriting the first chapter, the line "In their little infinity, they were equal." really struck a chord with me. So hence the name change. I hope you like it as much as I do!**

 **Now, I will continue to update this chapter in the next coming days before I start the next. But I can tell you right now, that the next chapter is going to explode with drama.**

 **So, thank you all for reading. Once again, I am so very sorry for that hiatus. I'll try not to let it happen again. If you enjoyed this chapter, or you think that there's something I can improve upon please leave a review so that I may see it. Thank you all so much, and I hope you have a good month!**


	5. Destitution

**Music that inspired this chapter:**

" **Arctic" by Sleeping at Last**

* * *

"I'm sorry… I-I know you all were depending on me. I-" Nick spoke softly, the embarrassment and shame following through his voice. Wide eyed, and emotionally out of breath, he glared at the back of the alleyway with hopeless and tired eyes.

"I need to ask for your forgiveness… Please." He pleaded, emotions slipping through his persona. _Don't let them see. C'mon Nick, they can't get to you._

The families gathered around him, their eyes full of terror and all of them clutching onto the dirty rags covering their cold bodies. The little ones shivered in their mother's arms while everyone surrounded by the flickering flames of the bare burning barrels quivered quietly.

Nick was pulling the plug. Tonight. No more stealing, no more hurting, just… Nick Wilde.

He didn't realize how much he was huffing and puffing until he saw the condensation fly from his snout and wisp in a glistening dance before ascending into the night sky.

This was by far the hardest thing he ever had to do. Abandoning everyone he helped for the sake of his own morality? It didn't sit right with him. But alas, it appeared to be the only way to go straight. At least, it seemed the only viable option from what Honey had told him.

The first one to speak was a female tiger, no older than 24. Nick always wondered why she stayed here. She must have come from a wealthy family, judging from the way she spoke and the constant mannerisms she inflicted on her makeshift family members. Was it her pride that kept her? Her sanity? Maybe she was in love? Maybe she's a freeloa-

 _Stop. St- ...Don't think like that Nick._

"Nicholas… We um…" She paused for a mere second before sticking her dirty claws in her mouth and began to nibble on them. Nick's wandering eyes managed to guide themselves to her. She stopped chewing a millisecond afterwards. "We don't know what to say." She glanced at the other animals enclosing the alleyway.

It was truly a miracle that these animals stuck together. Most of the homeless predators in Zootopia prefered to be alone. The prey prefered to stay in close knit groups, and yet this particular group was a mix and match of predator and prey. Living in harmony (or as good as harmony can get when you're this tribulated). It was a true miracle that they had stayed together, and in ways they were a compassionate - yet crudely assembled - family.

Considering he could be accounted as both predator and prey, it felt nice for Nick to be inbetween the other animals ranks. The mutual respect was what drove him engage with the misfortuned animals. It made him feel somewhat normal, considering he is a child without parents, that stole from rich families all throughout the Zootopian district. Or used to.

The second one to speak was a sloth. His words were calm and collected, not nervous or frantic like the tiger before him.

Well then again, _maybe_ there were reasons for that.

"Nick…" The fox's breath hitched. "We're…" Nick imagined the next word. _Angry, furious, gonna kill you?_ He cringed at the last thought.

"Upset?" Nick interrupted. "I understand, an-and you have every right to be. I supply you for month after month, just to tell y-"

"Scared." the sloth finished.

The silence whispered in the night, causing Nick to swallow guiltily.

"Wh-What?" Nick questioned, his eyes going wide. It was the last thing he was expecting from this group. They all nodded solemnly now that the question was in the air.

"But you guys'll... " He was at a loss for words, no comforting speeches or kind gestures materialized in his mind. The other animals silently nodded along with the slow movement of the many sloths. All of them were scared.

"You guys were fine before me. I-I have no doubt that you'll do fine without me." Nick answered in his kindest tone.

"We don't want to be without you." A pig mother defensively spoke, her 3 piglets clutching her body for warmth. The hair on her head was long and ragged, much like the tattered coat that surrounded her. She locked her eyes onto Nick, causing a rapid fire of guilt to fly to Nick's heart.

"I-I'm just no good to you guys." Nick started. "I have an orphanage to stay at, a bed to go home to. Food to eat." He choked on his words, any more spilling out might've been the death of him. "I'm a negative reminder of what you guys don't get… and I don't want to influence you guys or the kids here." He said with fake confidence.

"No Nick." A Yak spoke. "You're the best influence for us. You remind us all that there are still good people in this world. That it's still worth it to try and help others." Nick looked on with indifference, as if his mind was made up already. "Everyday I wake up, and you're the first person on my mind Nick. Not because I'm expecting you to bring us more supplies, but because I wonder about how many lives you'll change today." Nick gulped. He was certain that he never imagined the conversation to turn out this way. "You're just a kid Nick. You're our responsibility. Not the other way around. You. The fact of the matter is that when you're here, Nick..." He paused, recollecting his words. "We don't feel homeless anymore."

The grocery bags he held in his brown paws wrinkled and whistled with the dark wind, seemingly emphasizing the loneliness of his internal struggle before the silence reinstated.

Then a sniffle.

Nick directed his eyesight to the uneven black tarry asphalt and gently swayed back and forth in the breeze, his hoodie seemingly flapping compared to his bodies inactivity. Tenderly, He set the translucent bags down. Several objects of many materials came into contact with the scorched ground, making a series of clanks and clunks.

"This is from the heist a couple days ago. This is uh... It's all I could afford and I'm... I'm really sorry for that." Nick mumbled, as he squatted down to peel the bags away from the heaping amounts of canned foods, vegetables and bottled water, as well as some more warm clothing for the incoming winter. "The best I got was 600 dollars from the markets.."

Then suddenly, a rough hand fell on Nick's frail shoulder. Looking up towards the sapphire sky, the fox couldn't miss the dark ox towering above him.

Not many people knew his name. In fact no one knew if he even _had_ a name. He was the type that mostly kept to himself and tried not to make a scene. He was a silent guardian, watching the animals in the alley and intimidating the other mammals that attempted to test them on a daily basis. Yet here he was interacting with Nick, an act that no one had seen before. Needless to say, the fox was speechless to the sudden action.

The ox gave a gentle nod, before gently squeezing Nick's shoulder and walking away.

Nick nodded back at the strange animal, feeling humbled as the fire burning in the barrels crackled and popped against the rusted metal it resided in, creating haunting lonely echos.

He began to hand out the groceries slowly, object by object, person by person, one by one. For the final time.

They stared silently, and gazed at the items being passed around, as if it was free money. They stared at _him_ like he was giving them the world. They stared at him an admiration that very few would ever receive in a lifetime.

* * *

They stared at him like 5 year old would observe a firearm. Panicked. Complacent. As if their hearts were locked between their large teeth, and with the smallest shudder it would pop. Like he would pin them to the ground and pull them apart limb from limb. Like he would murder them and leave their warm crimson blood splattered over the cold dead grass if they so much as looked at him wrongly. They looked at him as if he had the capacity, the fuel, the drive to do all of this.

Maybe if he were a few centuries early he could've. Maybe - and emphasis on the 'maybe' - he might've even _wanted_ to do it.

Then again, a simple change in temperature would cause any of the Hopps family to feel fearful. Even though most of them felt they were extraordinarily accepting, any _new_ kinds of species were frighteningly foreign to their invariable farm. Especially his kind.

Could you imagine? A _fox_. On the Hopps farm? It would probably be the scoop of the century in this boring hellhole. Oh man, "The Bunny Burrow Pages" would just eat that information up like it was a peanut butter covered carrot. He could just imagine all of the headlines that would appear in their papers; all resulting in negative publicity that could possibly put this poor family out of business for generations.

 _Yeah, maybe staying here wasn't the best idea I could've conjured._

"J-Judy, honey, get back inside." Bonnie whimpered loudly as a prominent gulp undulated down her neck from her restlessness, breaking the deafening silence between the three characters. Her arm defensively draped over her daughter's shoulder, and tentatively pulled her back behind her; the dying grass crunching under her paws as she took steps towards him. She heard Judy's affirmative "Hmph" before her tiny feet begin to shuffle as she made away from them.

Now it was just her. Her and the glowing pair of eyes that seemed to target her, and track her every move.

Bonnie mustered as much false courage as she could - which wasn't much - and squeaked, "W-Who are you?"

He didn't dare to move, remaining somewhat shielded from the corn surrounding him.

"I don't- What do you want?" She inquired a second time.

No visible response.

"Well… I... " She paused for a second, taking a moment to drown herself in their uncomfortability. She glanced back down to the paper bag crumpled tightly in her paw, reflecting on the question. "Did you bring back this necklace?" She finally asked as her distaste for the fear began to swell inside of her. Probably a stupid question looking back on it, but one that broke the ice considering she got a timid nod as a reply.

"Y-You know, you could've dropped it off and-and left. You could've ran, far from here!" She explained with every courageous step she took towards him."You can s-still run, please."

He stayed in his prone position.

She ceased her movements. The courage from before spread throughout every nook and cranny in her body. She could practically feel the fake mettle pulse through her nervous system like it was a drug, following the root like structure embedded in her, leading to every nerve ending in her body. Suddenly the early morning air felt colder. So prominently colder that she couldn't possibly have frozen when she instinctively said,. "Come here."

Seemingly every muscle in his body began to contract in fear as he tried to make himself feel smaller. Bonnie's eyes widened. This character wasn't nearly the intimidating thief that she had engrossed herself into believing throughout all of those previous nights of insomnia.

He was very timid. Much like her in a way. "I'm… I know you're scared." She prodded. His gaze dropped to the floor for a hot second, before they returned to her face - shaking unevenly. Every vertebrae in his spine began to align as he began to stand upright.

The bunny gasped from the sudden movement, yet she still felt overconfident in her ability to coax the animal. Her brain was frying from the ancestral instincts she was receiving. "Run!" "Confront" over, over and over again. The figure stood as tall as his small body would allow him, which wasn't very much taller than the bunny in front of him. His chin towered over Bonnie's tall ears, distinctly establishing their predator and prey relationship.

Bonnie began to take tentative steps towards the creature, and with every pawstep he shuddered from his newfound anxiety (though he'd tell you it was from the cold, as _The_ Nicholas Wilde never felt anxiety. Especially not from some old hick).

Finally almost nose to nose, the steam coming from their huffs began to float to each other's face.

They stayed that way for a while, neither having enough courage to make another move. Their painfully awkward gridlock was interrupted by the mere wind swaying Nicks hoodie side to side. Bonnies fist clenched and tightened, pushing blood throughout her appendage, before slowly (and shakily) reaching her hand up to his hidden face.

Her paw was welcomed to the darkness underneath his silhouette, and agonizingly fell into the shade. The plump finger brushed the orange fur on the side of his jaw, making tiny symphonies of cracks and pricks.

The fox's eyes dilated violently, and he took many steps backwards into the cornfield he previously emerged from, stepping on the dead crops on the floor from his reflex.

Bonnie gasped with whatever air she had been conserving in her lungs. Her hand retracted acutely as she debated what her best course of action.

But then she heard it. His huffing and puffing wasn't as deep and monotone as she had imagined the many nights before. It was vulnerable. Innocent. Youthful.

That alone intrigued her enough to step towards him once again.

She stepped over the dead maize gently (which was a little difficult, considering her large feet), and reached out towards his dark hood again. This time, instead of feeling around, she immediately placed her whole paw on his cheek. Apparently, it must've worked because he was frozen in place. They both stood ramrod straight, neither knowing how to react to each others advances. All of this was foreign to them. Naturally forbidden, and yet here they were.

That gentle rub began to slowly evolve into something intensely more violent as Bonnie's eyes narrowed ferociously.

She struck his bruised face, in a violent _slap_. Though Nick stood his ground, standing as stoic as he ever had before.

Then a quick jab to his jaw. His head snapped to the side from the force. He clenched his jaw from the pain, waiting for it to become numb.. Still, he could take it.

Another slap, though from the other side of his face.

 _I don't want to cause any more problems._

Finally, an aggravated push.

The fox tripped backwards from the force and landed on the cold dry earth with a huff; his body bouncing slightly from the impact. The dry dirt surrounding him became aerated and weightless as it flew around his newly sore body.

Nick's eyelids snapped shut like blinds in a murky window, sheltering his eyes from the incoming beating that he was about to receive. He could imagine the blows, the wailing, all the suffering he was undoubtedly going to feel in the morning. But then again, he couldn't blame her for wanting to kill him. If he were in her shoes, he might've done the same thing... Still, he just couldn't believe how stupid he was, watching and waiting to see their reaction to his _one_ good deed.

 _Idiot..._

Soon enough the seconds transitioned to infinities, as he waited for the next series of assaults to compose. Though he might've had to wait a little while longer.

He forced his right eye open, causing his bright green iris to quickly dilate from the sudden intake of the moonlight. A soft gray hand was extended to him, beckoning him to accept it.

Nick followed the fragile hand to the elderly bunnies face, and noticed tiny glistening streams dripping from her tired eyes.

His green eyes flickered for a moment, in that dark night. _You can run._

True. He could just run, leave right now and not risk the chance that Judy Hopps was calling the police right at this moment. Risk the chance of leaving his orphanage in the dust. Breaking Finnick's promise, and leaving him to fend for himself, without a partner.

Then again. This wasn't the first time he broke a promise. It certainly wasn't the most paramount either. But on the other hand, maybe they could help him? In some crazy turn of events maybe they might be beneficial to be around. Maybe they could-

 _No. No no nonono. What are you thinking Wilde? She just knocked your ass down! You can't trust her. She doesn't trust you after all._ Yet he remained unmoved. Untrustworthy. _She doesn't trust you…_ Her paw remained outstretched patiently. Soon enough he found his own brown paw slowly reaching up to hers.

She pulled him up to the best of her ability which - to a bunny - consisted of her digging her heels into the dirt and grunting as she tried to pull up the creature that was almost 2 times her size.

With a huff they were both now standing, though Nick had felt more out of his element than he ever had before (which was saying a lot, considering the fact that he preferred to steal objects from foreign houses rather than find another suitable option). His lanky, skinny body noticeably contrasted against Bonnies stubby and chubby one.

Observing her unwavering stare, he quickly turned his head to look at the house that he _so rudely_ entered just a few nights before. _The police are going to be here any minute_. He shut his eyes in the realization, reabsorbing every decision that he had made up until this point.

Then he felt it.

Her calm hand fluttered uneasily up to his hoodie once more. Her wide coarse thumb fluttered out from the stationary position of her other phalanges as she began to posessively caress his jawline, before she pushed the hoodie off of his head. Nick felt his greasy shaggy fur begin to flow in the gentle breeze. He opened his eyes momentarily, the left side of his face illuminated by the high moonlight.

She breathed heavily at the sight of him. Frightened by him.

 _And she has every right to be._

Without any warning, she violently wrapped her arms around his chest. The remaining dirt covering his black hoodie became airborne form the force she slapped her arms around him with.

Nick took a few steps back from the sudden momentum, and began to pant. This was the last thing he expected to happen to him. And strangely enough… He felt better. He felt at home, in some weird way. He felt his own arms wrap around Bonnie, and he began to pat her back on instinct. They stayed like that for what felt like a lifetime. The uneasy comfort was seemingly tangible around them.

A predator and his prey, hugging like he was a long lost family member coming home for dinner on a warm spring evening. The embrace lasted longer than any of them noticed.

"I'm… I'm sorry I-I didn't know… You're…" The reveal left her speechless, causing her to just press her plump cheek into his chest a little harder. "You're just a..." She spoke silently.

Nick intervened with an aggravation, and lightly pushed Bonnie away from himself. "A _fox_." He finished with furrowed eyebrows, the word like poison on his tongue. "I get it."

"A _kid._ " She interjected defensively. "One that could definitely use some manners at that."

Nick gulped, feeling a little at a loss at the moment. He wasn't normally this snappy, and getting upset with the person you just robbed from didn't exactly give them any reason to trust him. He lowered his head in defeat. _This isn't how mom would've wanted me to act._

Bonnie's intense glare instantly transitioned back to her caring motherly self. "Are you okay?" She asked as she approached him once again, though this time with a little more tende-

 _Click-click!_

Bonnie's ears flexed from the sudden interruption. Nick instinctively crouched lower - he had heard that sound more than once in his run down neighborhood.

 _BOOM!_

The shotgun slugs tore through the sky, ripping apart the once tranquil night luminescence.

"Bonnie! Step away from him!" He heard the not-so-gruff voice yell.

Time seemed to slow for Nick as adrenaline began to pump throughout his veins. _Male. Early 40's. Around 3 ft 8 inches. Must be the father._ He observed the barrel of the weapon currently pointed towards the sky. _Standard pump-action._

 _Called it._

Nick turned to look at Bonnie as she froze, petrified from the undoubted ringing in her sensitive ears. She had probably never even been around one before. She probably didn't even know her husband had such a violent weapon.

 _Click-Click!_

"You need to move!" Nick yelled at her, causing her to stir from her stupor. "Please!" He screamed, his voice cracking from the sheer emotion. She gazed at him before he quickly rushed to her and - in one swift movement - gently pushed her out of the line of fire and onto the rough ground.

He reached behind his back and quickly pulled up his dirt covered hoodie over his face. His arms outstretched themselves in a surrender, but the male bunny simply directed the hot barrel at Nick, the scent of gunpowder pungent in the air. The smoke began to wisp around the now moving bunny, making strange patterns as it collided with his nose with every step he took towards the intruder.

"Judy! Close your eyes!" The elderly bunny yelled.

Nicks facial muscles quivered as he struggled to grip his emotions. His glossy eyes flew away from the three bunnies in front of him. He shuddered from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, etching its way to his heart.

His name is Nicholas Piberius Wilde, and he deserved _everything_ that was coming to him.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry for this late chapter. I got caught up with a lot of things, but I think I am ready to start writing again. Yes, I know that not a lot happened, but I figured I'd post it now for the satisfaction and work on the next chapter.**

 **Once again, I'm so sorry everybody. I will continue to update this story until it's finished. You can count on it.**

 **If there is anything that I should revise please let me know in the reviews. This chapter is pretty raw, and I am definitely going to be re-editing this chapter for years to come. Letting me know about something that's out of place will certainly help me in the long run. If you have any comments/praise/criticisms don't be afraid to voice them in the reviews as well.**

 **Thank you all for reading, I'll see you next chapter.**


	6. Oscillation

**Music that inspired this chapter (or helped it trudge along):**

 **"I can't see you anymore" by James Horner**

 **"Where We Gonna Go From Here" by Mat Kearney**

* * *

The ambience reeked of struggle.

Freely flowing, thick and raspy through decaying drywall, passively diffusing throughout the gloomy rooms was the uncertainty. Pungent throughout the stale bitter air. The feeblish grips that patients had clutched their lives upon was fleeting with every passing second. Fingernails dug deep in desperation.

His feral uncut claws _clacked_ on the cracked tile floor of that old hospital. More specifically, one of Zootopia's true non-stereotyping hospitals that is. " _Non-stereotyping? Aren't all hospitals in the marvelous city of Zootopia non-stereotyping?"_ Nick babbled with a seething resentment. Sure, most hospitals claimed to be non-stereotyping and always offered help to all, but then again _most_ hospitals didn't exactly have predators at the top of the waiting room list.

For the entirety of his existence there was an unstated distrust in his "predator" kind. A kind of unimportance in his range, if you will. At first, Nick was shocked to discover that his home was littered with hints of racism in every corner of his eyesight. It was a widely known reality inside Zootopia that had forced him to accept that no Mayor Lionheart speech could ever mask the abrasive tensions that cracked layers of Zootopia away. " _Mask…"_ Nick repeated to himself while continuing his journey through the hospital. It was funny to him. The city wore a mask much like a thief would. The city was two sided, two dimensional, too damaged beyond repair. Or forgiveness.

He chuckled at the irony.

If this world was as honest as it advertised, it would have banners of, "Pred-judice Perseveres" splattered everywhere. The fact that no one had bothered to change the citywide attitude was not something that was dominantly displayed during those brainwashingly beautiful train rides over.

For instance, the only path of discovery for this hospital was to be found by an insignificant fox of 10 years. Only by engaging in a conversation with a hellbent meth addict at the newly discovered "Nocturnal Nirvana" months after his mother was hospitalized was he referred to it. He would never retell the experience. To anyone. Never again would he think about the way the predators yellow teeth were decaying from his continued use. The pungent stench of his godawful breath. That uncomfortably consistent twitch in his left eye. Nor the story that he told him…

Of how he lost everything due to his addiction. The many times he was turned away from mainstream hospitals due to his race. The times he tried so hard to stop without the help of a licensed medical professional. "It took em eight weeks to recommend me to that hospital." He had told Nick. "Eight _fucking_ weeks-" (Nick was horrified at the spit that flung onto his cheek.) "Of patience, sitting in waiting rooms, by my own admittance mind ya! No one told me to be there! I wanted help." The man inhibited his rant. His eyes falling to the floor gracelessly. "Now look at meh… Too far gone..."

Nick wandered further into the seemingly endless white abyss while his mind redrawing memories that he had rather leave unillustrated, until his nose practically rammed into the decaying door he had been heading towards. Despite the fact that he had reached his destination, Nick had failed to notice the concerning glances that fluttered towards him. The young foxes return was an unlikely rarity to the staff, as his tragedy had spread like wildfire throughout the hospital. It raised many eyebrows to see him back in his equivalent hellhole.

Nevertheless he was oblivious to the overwhelming sympathy, as his eyes were welded to the dirty plaque on the wall adjacent to the door:

O. Otterton, PhD

His paw lightly rested on the fragile door, giving him a moment to tenderly feel it's aged lines that undulated over the surface before lightly pushing the door open- trying his hardest not to let the hinges squeak- to reveal a small otter sized table under the lifeless fluorescent light that illuminated the square shaped office. The room made him shiver sickly... as the last time he had been in there, he was helping pick out his mother's own flowers for her burial.

But somehow that had already felt so long ago.

Tentative steps were taken until his slender waist was in contact with that cold plastic table top. He scanned the dusty table with a certain uncomfortableness, until he saw the small pot of lilacs hidden behind a picture frame. Suddenly that feeling of uncomfort sprouted into a familiarity, causing a dimple to form on his bushy cheeks. He had faintly remembered her aspirations from her youth that she had told him about. "I wanted to be a florist at one point my life, you know. But I decided last minute to go to medical school and well… here I am." She revealed to him with a life changing smile.

He sat down in the thinly padded chairs that lined the walls of her office (almost hearing a _sigh_ from the weakening chair) and quickly let his backpack drop on the cold floor with a _plop_. She would be around soon. She was never gone for long even despite the fact that she was always busy. She found ways to make time for the simple things, like buying flowers and returning to her office during a trifling day.

Nick giggled. He could never understand that otter.

After playing on his phone for around 7 minutes, his ear flicked comically as he heard the rusty door handle _screech_ as it rotated. She stepped into her office with a gentle push; Another pot of flowers rested in her small frail hands, the soil pouring onto her white coat as she lost her footing (followed by a her high pitched whispering, "Damn it!" that in turn forced Nick to cover his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing).

She paced slowly towards her desk, the faint _pitter patter_ of her feet hitting the linoleum in time of her own metronome was somewhat melodic to Nick. It caused him to feel a little more at ease. She didn't notice him though. Not until she set the flowers down on her desk, opposite to where the previous flowers were, and noticed the indisputable smell of smoke, ash and...

She grinned when she identified the smell, revealing wrinkles that were barely developing onto her aging face.

The otter swivelled on her heel, until she came face to face with the one boy that had imprinted on her experienced mind. "Nicholas!" She exclaimed as she approached him, her voice filled with the joy of welcoming an old friend.

Nick stood from the chair, expanding his posture until he was standing up straight. She embraced him in a tight hug. "My my my! How have you been?"

"Hey Dr. Otterton." He said with a smile. She snuggled her cheek into his ribs, as that was the only area her tiny face could reach.

"My my, you've gotten taller. You were barely taller than me the last time I saw you!"

"Yeah, I guess I've hit my growth spurt huh? Puberty does wonders." He chuckled along with her. Seeing her had uplifted his spirits in a way he hadn't expected. It was a strange change. One that he had definitely not anticipated.

"Nicholas, w-why are you covered in soot and ash?" She exasperated as she pulled away from his body. Her soiled lab coat had now been added with black streaks he had noticed.

"Oh, uh…" He was at a loss for words. How could he possibly tell her the truth…" _Oh yeah, I just virtually told 5 families that I was going to let them starve and freeze to death, and the heat from their hatred singed some of my clothes."_ Luckily, his half-assed lie had formed organically, "I was just at a bonfire with a couple of fri-" (Thankfully,) He was cut short by her next outburst.

"Nicholas Wilde is that a black eye?!" She angrily grumbled at him. His eyelids rose and practically kissed his brows from his shock. _Oh damn, I'm gonna get it._ Otterton jumped up and grabbed his lengthy fur with her vice-like grip and tugged his head down to her eye level.

" _Oh that? That's from nothing. I was just, you know, stealing from this sweet house the other day and the owner found me and socked me."_ "I… I uh-" Nick's mind was racing a mile a minute trying to concoct a fake story before she cut him off (once again).

"Come here let's get you cleaned up." She dragged him headfirst into the bathroom of her office, and grabbed a spare rag resting in a cupboard hanging above the mirror and sink. He was lashed into the room, smiling with a childish grin as he misplaced his steps and almost tumbled inside. The otter was oddly strong for her size, and she certainly didn't take any crap from anybody.

As he straightened himself from his near faceplant, he took the time to study his reflection as Mrs. Otterton wetted the soft rag. His normally orange face was dispersed with blotches of gray from the ash that was spread throughout his shaggy (and greasy) fur. He chuckled at his messy reflection. _Yeah… Probably should have cleaned up._

His self evaluation was cut short when he heard the grunt that came from the small otter in front of him.

"Nicholas Wilde, when was the last time you got your fur trimmed?" She griped, her small foot patting against the ground impatiently.

"What is this, 20 questions doc?" He teased with a chuckle. She glared at him protectively (yet her anger was still unmistakably apparent). "Well… judging from that look, I'd say too long ago?" He answered back slyly. Her agitated look slowly transfigured into an amused smile. She pulled him towards the toilet, and gently forced him to sit down. Her thin arm reached up to his face, and began to wipe away the sticky soot from around his eyes.

"You have certainly changed Nick." She mumbled as she began to tenderly rub circles around his left eye. "And it better have been for the better." She growled, pulling on his long fur. Nick grimaced painfully, yet still finding the humor through the situation. "Coming into my office covered in ash and pridefully showing off that shiner." The otter stood up and walked back to the sink, ringing out the rag of its grimy blackness. She reached for the sink knobs, twisting them gently until water was splashing over her hands. "What are you doing here sweetheart?"

"Well…" He gulped. "I um…" She returned to the fox, the rag dripping with warm water and began to wipe his forehead. "The thing is doc, I think I'm ready… for the-um…" He choked on his next words. He wanted so badly for them to originate, yet his throat went dry. Mrs. Otterton abruptly stopped her cleaning and slowly removed the rag off of his face. The loss of the cloth formed beads of water on his forehead. Those beads began to roll off of his face and onto his hoodie in murky gray drops.

The dripping sink was the only audible noise.

She stopped her cleansing and but her rag down on the sink with an admirable finesse, her body suddenly stiff with a sudden shock that wasn't seen before. Patiently she put both of her paws on the sides of his large jaw, directing his eyes towards her. His bright green eyes peered into hers. She didn't see the ragged fox with a black eye. She saw the same confused child that had no choice but to mature exponentially when he figured out that he would soon be on his own. "Of course honey… That's why you came back after all." She saw traits of his mother in his eyes. Calm. Collective. Charismatic.

She knew exactly what he was talking about. "Ok honey." She embraced him in another hug, his head largely overhanging her frail shoulders. "If you think you're ready for it."

"I am. I just…" She let her tight grip of him loosen, grabbed the cloth once more, and lifted the rag until it rested on his right eye. "Oh man this is hard to say." She began to orbit the foxes raw black eye, giving him a curiously protective gaze. "The thing is… You might not see me for a while."

"Why is that?" She questioned, as she tentatively tried to remove the ash that stuck to the child's black eye.

"That fox on the news? The one that's been stealing from houses all throughout Zootopia?" Her massaging stopped as her back straightened. He felt himself shudder in fear. "He's uh… I'm-"

 _SLAP!_

Nick's face seethed with pain. A hot red handprint was left on his right cheek, underneath his bruised eye.

Once Nick gained the strength to open his eyes again, he didn't see Mrs. Otterton. Oh no, he saw a disturbed otter. Her small hands covered her mouth. Tears began to form in her eyes.

"No no no… that's not you Nicholas. That _can't_ be you." She sobbed quietly, her words long and drawn out. "Oh Lord, I prayed this wouldn't happen." She sobbed quietly. "I prayed that it wasn't you. I thought you were better than this." She fumbled.

"I'm turning myself in." He cut her off finally, standing up from the toilet so he towered over her. "It took longer than I thought it would, but I found the courage to do it." He answered. He felt his own tears forming deep in his eyes. He peeled her hands from her eyes, and wrapped them in his assertively bigger paws. "And if I'm going to be sent to a correction center, or thrown in prison I just…" He felt some drops roll down his cheeks, creating clean orange rows on his dirty gray face… He maneuvered his fingers to loosen the tightly clenched rag in Otterton's hand. "I just want to remember, y'know?" He held her hand patiently, waiting until her grip slackened. He steadily pulled the cloth from her paw, feeling its silkily coarse texture slide through his coarse fingers before it finally was released from her fingers. It swayed hypnotically like a pendulum in a grandfather clock due to its water weight, splattering drops of tainted water onto his feet.

He lifted the rag like it weighed thousands of pounds, and gingerly wiped away her tears. Her eyes were wide like a child who had just seen their parents fight, and full of tears.

Now, Nick had seen almost every emotion from this tiny otter. Happiness. Loss. Excitement. Curiosity, all of them. But this one… This one had no placement. No adjective could describe those piercing eyes. Those _guilty_ eyes. In their stagnation, neither one could recognize who was more disappointed. Her stance was bent out of its normal shape, showing a fragileness that Nick had never seen from her before.

 _Say something stupid._ He told himself. _Tell her you're an idiot. Tell her you messed up. Tell her you did it for your orphanage. Anything!_

But he didn't. He didn't feel the need to. He told her exactly what he needed to. He was a scumbag searching for redemption, not compassion or empathy. And that's all she needed to know.

Even if it was the last thing she remembered about him.

The silence was trespassed by an echoing _ring_ of the otters office telephone line. Mrs. Otterton let it ring 2 or 3 times, her arms crossing across her small chest and her eyes glaring at the young boy in front of her before she left the bathroom with a reluctance. He trailed along like a sheep following a shepherd's voice.

"Hello, this is Dr. Otterton." She started with her hand locked around the receiver as she looked at the ragged boy in front of her one last time. She tightened her lips into a hard pressed line while simultaneously shutting her eyes with remorse. He saw the doctor reach inside her otter sized file drawer and pull out an odd piece of photo paper. It reflected the warped fluorescent light on the ceiling.

She shoved it into his chest, causing him to gasp from the pressure and reach up and sandwich it between his hand before it could fall to the empty floor. "Yeah, put them through."

Through the discussion of medical mumbo-jumbo between Otterton and her patient, Nick was on the verge of breaking down. _This is it. Ruined one more relationship out of the many you've failed._ Nick finally turned around, accepting the broken bridge left between the two of them.

"Okay hold on, can you give me a second?"

He heard her reciever clack on the plastic tabletop, and suddenly Mrs. Otterton was running towards him with an urgency he had yet seen before and engaged him in the most extreme hug she could.

"I don't like when you leave without saying goodbye, Nicholas. You remember me telling you that?" She reminisced while struggling to keep him pressed against her. Nick merely nodded and answered back with a struggling, "Yes mam."

At this, Otterton let go of her extreme hold and gripped his shoulders. "You come find me when you get out." She commanded with a smile, a tear slowly trudging down her cheek. "Okay?" She grabbed his hand softly.

Nick took a second to breathe, his eyes watering from his own emotion. Despite everything that he had done. Despite the hurt that he put her through.

She was always there.

He wasn't sure how he would've made it this far without her.

"Okay."

* * *

The hot barrel was locked sagittally on his face, shaking from Stu's tremored hands coursing with adrenaline and rage. His sweaty paws held the aged handle surrounding the butt of the shotgun with ferocity. He approached the riled fox quickly, decreasing the distance between them exponentially until the heat from the previous slugs were directly free flowing onto the foxes forehead causing the fox to sweat bullets.

Nick shut his eyes at this moment with the last thing he saw being shotgun practically being forced into his skull, a worried mother clambering to her feet and a young bunny standing frightened.

This was it. Going out like a thief. Getting what he ultimately deserved. Though, he couldn't say that he didn't see this coming.

Then, for a moment, he felt the sudden urge to laugh uncontrollably from the sudden realization...

He had finally hustled himself.

"Stu!" He heard through the beating in his chest and the pulsing in his head. "Stop!"

"Dad!" He heard Judy cry.

The drops of sweat began to trail down his cheeks and into the side of his mouth, that drenched salty taste causing Nick to gulp in fear. A smoking gun was now _actually_ being pressed into his forehead causing him to wince from the two ovals being charred onto his fur.

"Put the gun down Stu! He didn't do anything wrong!" He heard alongside the approaching footsteps.

"He didn't do anything wrong? Not a _single_ thing Bon?" He yelled furiously, all the while he began to violently shove the barrel into the intruders skull, causing Nick to kneel and react from the aggressive pushing...

"Stu! He's just scared!" Bonnie yelled. Nick was sure that he could hold out, not lose his temper. Not get any further down the enemy line with the honest family in front of him. He just needed to remain calm. He deserved this. Maybe (just maybe) it would turn out alright for him in the end.

"He's a goddamn dead _son of a bitch_ is what he is." Stu murmured.

That did it for him.

Nick's eyes snapped open like a hungry predator that just found its prey (and in many ways, it was true). His hateful glare scanned the barrel placed against his head, before rising and honing in on the weaponholder. Stu's expression immediately lightened in what appeared to be evident fear.

"No, no no no no Stu…" Bonnie expressed empathetically as she finally approached him behind his shoulder. "Just put the gun down, he doesn't want to hurt us." Her gentle paw lightly touched his shoulder. Stu stood there stunned.

 _C'mon…_ All he needed was a chance, a millisecond, a moment. He just needed Stu to lose his focus.

And that moment came once Stu turned to look at his wife questioningly.

Like a wound up spring, Nick shot up from his crouched position and smacked the shotgun away from his face before strategically ripping it from Stu's hands. The gun clicked and clacked from the sudden shifting of movements before finally being faced towards Stu. Nick could feel the weight of the object. Though not just the physical, for he realized… He could easily pull the trigger. Easily take this creature's life away. With one simple flexion.

His body shook violently from the rage consuming him, and the chilly weather freezing his sweat drenched clothes. Yet at the same time, he felt sick to his stomach. Like he would yack all over the dried earth surrounding him if he began to think about the power he held too much.

The family looked struck with terror. Through the creatures slick movements, his hoodie flopped over to reveal his shaggy face. The face of a young fox.

"Look at my finger." Nick's prepubescent voice dominantly commanded towards the male bunny. Stu urgently looked at him before directing his gaze to the foxes tight grip on the weapon. "Tell me where it is." He demanded his hands shaking violently.

His finger was coiled threateningly around the trigger.

"It's… It's on the-"

"If you _ever_ disrespect my mother," His eyes narrowed as if he was offended by what he was doing. He didn't understand it, his words flowed organically out of his mouth as if he'd practiced them for years. "If you so much mutter a single word about her, _ever again_ , I swear on my li-"

He saw the movement. Tentative. Coarse. He paused to observe the miniscule actions, his eyes shifting towards her with heaviness.

Slowly, Judy stepped out from the sideline to intersect the front of the barrel, joining her family in front of the line of fire.

Nick's passion-filled eyes promptly began to soften at the sight of her.

Her eyebrows narrowed in curiosity from his action.

His shaking increased from the tension, as well as his sickness and spontaneous urges to vomit. _Son of a bitch…_ He heard repeatedly throughout his head. _He doesn't get to talk about her like that._ He argued with himself.

Judy's glance began to morph. Starting from agile curiosity, and evolving into a pertinent sympathy.

Nick was deadlocked. Caught in a standstill that could not be easily broken. _Don't._ She seemingly conveyed to him. _I know you don't want to do this..._

His bushy eyebrows softened up as he quickly agreed, _I don't want to do this._ But regardless of the sudden realization the fox was still choleric. So bitter that for a second he would swear that he felt the courage to pull that trigger. That feeling dissipated as soon as he identified it.

But that wasn't him. No no no, he wasn't a killer. As a child his mother used to chuckle at his youthful inability to kill ants - before they began to put them in his favorite meal "the Bugaburga", mind you - as they would walk home from his school. She used to tell him that he would always look down at his feet and compile some erratic spontaneous dance moves trying to avoid the ants while skidding across the hot Zootopian sidewalks as if he himself had ants in his pants. But that was prior to her expiration. That was before he would've done everything in his power to save her life, even if it meant killing every ant, insect, or creature in Zootopia.

Those were dark times for his 11 year old self, anyone would agree. The moments leading up to her end. He hated recalling them.

But the family in front of him were no ants. They were much more complex, just like his emotions with each second that flew by. The feeling of committing murder. _That_ was the predator in him. That was only his survival instinct kicking in. Retaliating from being on the brink of death. Breaths began to crescendo, grips slackened in their sweaty lubrication, morality shifted until he saw it. He lifted his head from the scene unfolding rapidly around him, his eyes glowing a passionate green.

The twinkling in the dark atmosphere challenged him.

He brought his head back solemnly, only to see that the bunnies had shut their eyes from the fear overwhelming them. Except for Judy Hopps, who was closer than before with her eyeline being more supportive with every step.

Nick narrowed his eyes at the Hopp's family one last time, the feeling of committing a heinous crime still bitterly biting in the back of his mind. He slowly shook his head heatedly before aggressively shutting his eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Judy saw his finger move to the trigger.

 _CLICK!_

Judy flinched slightly, as she finally saw Nick press the slide-release button resting behind the trigger, preparing to unload the weapon. He emptied the shotgun with two hefty _pumps_ , watching the loaded crimson slugs jump out from the barrel and glisten from the moonlight in a feverish sparkling maroon before falling to the hard earth, almost in slow motion. She sighed in exasperation, knowing that she was safe.

Now that the weapon was unloaded, Nick was finally able to stop shaking. He lowered the weapon quickly, as if it had the weight of a skyscraper on his hands.

"I'm sorry." He continued. "The last thing I want to do is threaten all of you when I came here to ask for forgiveness." His head sunk to the floor, his nostrils flared. The shotgun was beginning to slip through his paws, making him increasingly more uncomfortable as he calmed himself down.

"I…" Nick began. "I-I'm very asham…" his tongue tied from the assertion, he was left unavailable for words. The emotions flying through his head were not optimized for dialogue, leaving him blankly staring at the family in front of him his eyes becoming misty by each passing second.

"It's okay." His ears twitched, as he saw Judy step towards him. "It was just a mistake, right? We all make them."

"Judy step away from him!" She heard her father demand. Stu reached out to her, grabbed her by the arm and protectively pulled her away.

Nick was frightened at himself for allowing his body and mind to react in such a way. Threatening an innocent bunny family. Robbing them of their possessions. Oh yeah, he was quite ashamed.

They stood there, all of them, unsure of how to react. The floor below them was like fragile glass, threatening to crack if any of them were to move an inch.

So they didn't.

In a fit of awkwardness they continued to stand their ground, only making quick glances at one another. He stood there like a lonely weed in an empty dried out field. Waiting for his moment where he would be plucked and stuffed in a vase for the rest of his life.

He grabbed the weapon by the barrel, the heavy metal clacked against his long claws, and he slowly handed it to Stu. Eyes enlarging and heart settling, he accepted it hesitantly as it transferred into his calloused paws.

Nick's gaze was locked onto the ground, as shame and guilt clouded his perception. And as his throat undulated from the contrite gulp he had just taken, he swiftly turned and sprinted through the cornfield, his paws pounding the dry ground as he vanished out of their sights.

* * *

He was far now. Deep into the maze of maize. His heart was slamming against his chest with every heave that he took as his arms swinged passionately and legs pumped and contracted with force.

After running for what seemed like an eternity he slumped down and fell to his knees. His arms flailed lazily in front of him keeping his upper body supported. He arched his back before beginning to cough uncontrollably as his lungs argued with his current choice of sprinting into this never ending hell hole of a corn field.

Phlegm and saliva dribbled down his chin as he struggled to breathe, his sternum felt like a furnace as every breath he took fueled the burning in his chest.

 _Well… you deserve this one Nicky._ He told himself as he wiped the sticky fluids from his mouth with the black sleeve of his hoodie. He heaved once more before lifting his head up from its defeated position.

 _This and everything that comes with it…_ He imagined the police cars swarming the fields. The sirens bellowing to the entire Bunny Burrows that he was trapped. The anxiety of waiting to be found and punished.

The incarceration of Nicholas Piberius Wilde.

 _Yeah, I guess it could've been worse._ His eyebrow rose as he considered his predicament. _You could've been shot. Could've been dead._ He chuckled. _Eh, you should've been dead before any of this happened. With all the stupid decisions that you've made rece-_

A crunching of grass.

An audible footstep. Then-

"Huh… You're pretty fast" He heard a shaky voice from behind him. His aching muscles constricted in fear. _This was it._ His stomach began twisting into knots as he waited for the inevitable. Remaining in his vulnerable position, the fox continued to pant.

"I'm uh…" She paused. He imagined her confused face as she fumbled with her words.

A snarky smirk manifested on his lips. She noticed, and didn't take too long to point it out.

"Y'know… I don't have to be the only one talking. Conversations work both ways." Her sass rolled off of her tongue as if it were a waterslide. He tried his best to chuckle, but it came out as a mistakable heave.

"Hey." He gurgled from his coarse vocal chords.

"What's your name?" She questioned him, her voice full of genuine curiosity.

He remained silent, half from his inability to speak due to the long distance sprinting he had just committed.

He didn't reply, but rather shook his head.

"What? You don't have a name or something?" The bunny mockingly voiced.

He took a couple of seconds to fill his lungs with air. "Eh… or something." Nick replied with a hint of sarcasm.

She was definitely not impressed. "Wow… You certainly went from a fox that was sorry for threatening my family to being a snarky douche pretty quickly, huh?" She asked him, her voice shuddering from the nippy weather. His smile dropped.

Tiredly lifting his body from it's hunched over position, he fell back onto his butt and rotated himself until he sat criss-cross in front of her.

"Y'know... " He grunted as he struggled to get comfortable on that cold earth. "I'd rather not be reminded of that _fluff_." He admitted soulfully as his head leaned back to look at the stars.

"It's Judy." She pronounced authoritatively. "And I'm just stating the facts of the case."

"There is no case here _Judy_." He accused her. She had to admit that it was weird hearing this fox say her real name. Compared to their last encounter, it felt extremely out of place.

"Sir _fox_ , you could not be any wronger." She replied with her own charm. He grimaced uncomfortably at the word, she noticed. She made a mental note of that.

"Im…" Came his weak reply, her interest peaked. "I'd uh… I don't like being called that." He muttered with embarrassment.

She saw the authentic hurt emanating from his eyes, and did well to mind her boundaries. "Well then… what do I call you?"

There was no reply, and most likely there probably wasn't going to be one.

"Fine then. I'm calling you _John_." She answered as her arms crossed over her chest. Nick's right eyebrow raised in interest, not that she could see this extra confusion anyways.

"John?" He asked in distaste as the word was extremely foreign on his tongue.

"Yeah. As in John Doe." She answered back with her own cocky smile. Nick scoffed in a genuine laugh that was rarely seen.

"Ok enough with the police vernacular, I'm getting sick of it... Plus, I'm not even a doe." He leaned in close to her, examining her pink carrot themed pajamas once more. Observing the pattern repetition of the... He smirked devilishly. " _Carrots_." He warmly smiled at her with his eyes half lidded. His smug grin could've made any poker player lose confidence.

She froze from his spontaneous nickname. Oh how she hated that nickname! The pajamas weren't even her choice! Her mother bought them for her at the local thrift store years ago to keep her warm during the nights. The stereotype, the connotation, the implications all resembled a weak bunny. But then again, all he was doing was responding to her own unspoken opposition.

They heard the faint sound of her parents trudging through the fields of corn from where Judy had appeared from, both of them calling her name and gasping as if this was the most running they had done in years. (In all actuality, it was).

Nick looked down at his feet, the shame finding it's way to get rid of all the previous good feelings he was having earlier. He found it weird that Judy was able to give him some unexpected happiness.

She noticed his withdrawal from their conversation. Their chemistry seemed to have hit a deadlock. The anxiety started up again like an eight cylinder engine in the poor fox, and for some reason she felt equally shameful as him.

"Y'know, I'm sure my mom would be okay with having you spend the night."

"It's morning."

"Then she'd enjoy making breakfast for you." Nick's eyebrows shot up inquisitively. "She loves cooking. It's partly why she married my dad. Once she found out he had a farm where he grew his own vegetables, it was pretty much sealed."

Nick looked down on his dirty black clothes that were heavily smeared with grass and dirt. His phone was forcefully pressed against his thigh. _I should go._ He considered. Judy seemingly knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I guarantee, that you won't get caught. My mom will protect you. She'd never let my dad turn you in since you returned that necklace. You'd have a mother's protection." She honored.

Nick visibly reacted to her words. His eyes fluttered over to hers. _A mother's protection?_ He repeated to himself. _Haven't had that in a while._ It was almost as if Judy knew exactly how to persuade Nick, as his final response was-

"Alright _Carrots_ , it seems that I've joined your little game." He smiled with a hint of a challenging flirtation. "But you're not getting a name out of me."

She eagerly smiled back, knowing that this would be the start of a wonderful friendship.

"We'll see about that, _John_."

* * *

 **So sorry about the wait for this one, it wasn't my intention to make you guys wait patiently for over 7 months. But I tried my best to counteract this by creating a 6k word chapter. I know it's not much but I've had this 90% ready for over 5 months, but I was just never satisfied with it enough to post it. Finally since I graduated, I decided to make the time to sit down for the past 2 weeks and make it good enough for me to post it. I know for sure, just like most of my chapters, that I'm going to be editing and rereading this chapter to make sure that it flows better.**

 **Next chapter should come soon (HOPEFULLY), but if you enjoyed this chapter or just want to leave some criticism (which is always read and noticed) please consider leaving a review.**

 **Once again from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read this.**


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